I'm In Ruins
by MaybeSage
Summary: Sylaire. Post-BNW. Sylar wants to prove to Claire he really has changed. Working in close promximity to her is only supposed to make things easier. But who is Claire without her stubborness? ON HIATUS. Finding my muse.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HEROES/CHARACTERS. :) **

**Hey guys. So this is my first fanfic. :) glad to be joining you guyszs as just another writer :) I've actually never written anything resembling a fanfic. Just my own little short stories. Well without further ado:**

**I'M IN RUINS**

**A Sylaire fic.**

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After the fiasco with the Ferris wheel, Claire couldn't help but feel guilty. Everyone at the carnival (and pretty much all the other Specials around the world) were panicking, wondering if their secret was exposed. Although she felt bad, she didn't regret it.

"It takes just one Sylar, Claire. One crazy person for the world to judge you and all of the other innocent, special people out there," Her father told her sternly, "Then what'll you do? Go into hiding?" He gave her a disappointed look, "The world just isn't ready Claire."

His look of annoyance and concern mixed with his words was enough to make her feel guilty. Feel partially responsible for whatever happened next to the Specials, and what effect her actions would have on them.

But thankfully to the modern thinking of the world, everyone summarised it was an elaborate circus act put on by the carnival. Although she was only half thankful for this outcome. She was also half curious as to what would have happened if the world took anything on TV seriously.

Finishing college was out of the question for Claire. After all – she had the rest of forever to complete it. Much to the disappointment of her father... and uncle. And mother. And Grandmother. And many friends. And pretty much everyone she knew. But she felt it just wasn't for her. She wanted to learn alright – just nothing written in textbooks. She wanted to learn about herself, about Sylar, about Peter, Matt, Mohinder. About everyone like them and like her. And there was only one place to do that.

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So now here she was. _The Company_.

Not Bob Bishop's version, or the company Angela Petrelli wanted to create (that wouldn't be too good). But her father's. Yes, Noah Bennet has built a company just like the one he helped burn to the ground. Well after all, he _is _a Company Man.

And having trusted employees that were friends and family was like a job made in heaven. Or so it seemed. See there was one employee that wasn't well liked at all, looked down upon, and constantly criticised. Yes – that employee was Sylar.

Claire didn't much like the idea of being in the same building as Sylar – let alone working to save humanity and...superhumanity with him.

Ofcourse she didn't know _how _close she was to be working with him.

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**SOOO? what did everyone think? I knooow its like short as hell, but i didn't want to write anymore incase no one actually liked the raw concept of it.  
Alsooo, suggestions? :) i want ideas people! lol**

**and before you ask - yes, another chapter will be coming as soon as i figure out how to upload chapters :) i tryed to youtube it but it didn't come up with anything :S which is weird.**

**i have allllot of Sylaire ideas and want to make this a multi-MULTI chap fic to fit all of those in :P LOL ok anyway. 8) i love you guys already :D**

**- MaybeSage**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HEROES. :)**

**HELLZ YEE-YAHHH! ….. no, sage…just..no.**

**Sooooo heres another chapterrrr :D **

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Sylar was only morbidly curious as to why Noah Bennet had called him into his office. Usually he tried to avoid him at all costs. And vice versa. Sylar wasn't particularly fond of being glared at and looked at with hatred (although he's getting used to it). Being hated by 99.9% of the people in this building, it's easy to forget why you were there in the first place. But he always knew his goal. To prove to everyone he was different. To prove he was good at heart and not the murderous monster everyone labelled him to be. He also knew it would take time. It had only been a month after all. But he couldn't see the glares wavering in the slightest in the near future. He would wait though. He had all the time in the world. Literally. Although most of the people in this building wouldn't live long enough to see all of his heroic accomplishments, it was comforting to know the one person he had most to prove to, would.

Trust was a whole other story entirely. He would like, love, _prefer _people to trust him. But he knew that day would not come in their lifetime. No one in this building would live long enough to learn to trust him. And if they _did _learn. He wouldn't know how to react, what to say. He wouldn't believe them. After all, how can you expect others to trust you if you can't trust yourself?

Sylar knew he wouldn't hurt anyone. Unless push came to shove. But that was just instinct, and that was everyone's reaction. He couldn't be blamed for acting in self-defence, could he? He shouldn't, but he would. Everything he did would be judged under a scrutinizing eye. A judgemental, knowing eye. Particularly the eye of Noah Bennet. Bennet wouldn't ever trust him with anyone, probably not even his dog. Sylar wanted desperately to show him, Claire, Parkman, the rest of them that he could protect and serve. And he would do it to the best of his ability…or abitlit_ies._

So you can say he was intensely curious to know why Big Man Bennet sent out a morning memo requesting his presence at 9am on the dot. He was even a little scared. A little nervous. What could Noah Bennet possibly want? He had been filing papers perfectly (as perfect as a newbie could), he was being polite and respectful to all other employees (despite the opposite reaction), he would only take the designated time for lunch and morning breaks, he would leave only at 5:30pm exactly. What did he do wrong?

Asking himself that, he thought The Boss might have summoned him to _praise_ him. However unlikely as it was. Even just a passing "Good job" on a file he updated or learned off by heart, or the coffee he made every morning and put in the communal pot, for goodness sake! Any of those would encourage him to know end. And he was sure this was his inner-Gabriel talking. The side of him always desperate and longing for approval. The side of him that he wanted to purge yet invite. It wasn't easy for him to go through life without knowing 100% who he was anymore. He was Sylar. He was Gabriel. He was Gabriel Sylar. He didn't know. Even his goddamn name tag didn't even know! All it said on it was 'Sylar'. No middle or last name. Just the name he created for himself. He wanted people to know Sylar had a good heart like Gabriel. That Sylar was capable of caring, loving…mercy…just like Gabriel is. Was. Had been.

Sighing, he didn't know anymore. And it was no use troubling himself over questions that would never be answered. Kind of like 'what is the meaning of life?'. People had theories, but would never voice them, or ponder them. Or they just didn't care enough to wonder.

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Saying she wasn't surprised was an understatement. She was called to his office every morning. Whether it was to say "Good morning" or whether it was to say "No! You're not going out in to the field! It's too dangerous!", today she would expect either one. She was in that sort of mood where things could go either way.

She desperately wanted to go out into the big wide world and help people like her, people with abilities. But that wasn't ok with the Boss/Father. Not even the suggestion of being paired up with Peter could sway his decision. He would argue that Peter would just absorb her power and then they'd both be as good as each other. Which is not very good. Having a purely defensive power was frustrating at the best of times. No matter how handy is was to grow your limbs back; she also wanted to know she could protect her never changing body. It was hard enough to persuade Daddy dearest to let her practice the art of firing a fire arm (which she was getting better at as the days went by by the way). Perhaps he wanted her there to go over to Matt's and try and get him to join the company again. That was a pleasant visit. They had talked about the Company for an all of five minutes, then the rest was talking about Matt Jr, how much he loved being a stay-at-home-dad, how money was tight, how Janice would get frustrated after work, how much he disliked the idea of a 'tame Sylar'.

She didn't believe Sylar was worthy of life let alone a _job. _Although it's not exactly a _normal _job, it's a job that involves him being around and interacting with other humans. If he even was one. They see each other every day. Every. Single. Day. Does her father even know how hard it is for her? To just walk past him like he didn't try and kill her? To resist the temptation to grab any sharp object within reaching distance and thrust it into the back of his skull? Even though he could internally shape shift (which she finds disgusting by the way), it would make her feel a lot better to see him dead for the few seconds he would be.

She finds it so _infuriating _the way he smiles at her. Not the predatory way he used to. And not a confident smile either. But a shy one. A guilty one. She would never return it though, only with a glare most of the time. She would never return his greetings either. Not his shy "Hello"s or his quiet "Good mornings". Nothing. He didn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve civility. What he deserves is to be buried six feet under in a steel coffin in an unmarked grave. She hasn't grown used to his courtesy yet, but she has grown used to his presence. Knowing where they bump into each other throughout the day has been a great advantage. Knowing he'll be in the small employee kitchen at 9:35 every morning pouring new coffee into the jug for everyone even though he doesn't drink it himself, knowing he'll be at his desk from 10:00am to 12:30pm sorting files and lounging around, knowing he'll be having his lunch at 12:35 in the kitchen or in the small communal garden, knowing he prefers Pepsi over Coke (which she would never understand), knowing he's making an effort. She knows she sounds something like a stalker. But it's kind of hard not to keep track of the everyday activities of _your _former stalker and arch enemy. Plus she finds all of these things…these trivial little things…interesting. She has _no _idea why, nor will she ever admit it, but she finds it almost comforting to know Sylar has some humanity left in him. Maybe if it's just to know he won't be hunting for any brains any time soon.

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She was not surprised to see him walk around the corner at the other end of the hall. Rolling her eyes as she made eye contact with him. He looked down ofcourse – like he always does with her, probably doesn't want to start anything.

However, she was surprised to see him halt in front of her father's office at 9:00am.

"What are you doing?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Daddy called. He wants to see me." He replied with a slight smile and the sarcastic tone he reserves for her.

She glares, "You misread, he wants to see _me._ Read the notice." She replies as if she were talking with a smartass teenager. Which wasn't far from his maturity level anyway.

"Actually I read it perfectly. _You _must've misunderstood. It clearly said '_Sylar _to Boss Bennet's office at 9:00 am sharp'."

"It said _Claire. _Why the hell would he call you up? Unless he wants to fire you for the body you stuffed under the stairs," She displayed humour in her eyes, "Oops!," She covered her mouth with her hand, "Was I not meant to tell anybody?...sorry." She laughed just to mock him. As if the mocking in her eyes wasn't enough.

He glared slightly and mocked her mocking with the childish 'meh meh meh' reply, "Well then, since we can't figure out who the memo was for because you didn't bring it with you-"

"You didn't bring it either!" She interrupted.

"- it's only logical we go in there and prove I'm right, and send you back to cheerleading practice before you decide to stab me somewhere that would _really _hurt." He continued and finished as though she didn't say anything.

He calmly, and gentlemanly opened to door for her with one arm and directed her with a swish of his other arm. Glaring, she saw him grin at her condescendingly as she stormed past him and into her father's office, she was now in a bad mood. Thanks to his obnoxiousness.

Following after her, he stood by her side and faced the huge, mahogany desk towards the back of the room (obviously a very expensive gift from Angela). Seeing Claire's glare and crossed arms, he mimicked her with his own glare and folded arms. Looking from her to Bennet who sat patiently with interlacing fingers resting atop his desk among the many files and office supplies (which the majority of Sylar had filed and organised himself thank you very much!).

Before he had a chance to get a word out, Claire beat him to the punch, "So who is meant to be here? Me or him?" She asked quickly, like it was some sort of race to ask first. Which it basically was, both having the feeling of urgency, excitement, and the desire to be first. It seemed petty to both of them, but they both wanted to prove each other wrong, and they didn't care much at all.

Noah Bennet sighed at their immaturity. Claire was 20 years old now and Sylar was 25. He wanted to remind them both to jump in the fast lane to grown-up land. Highly unlikely either would listen though.

"Both." He said looking from one pair of eyes to the other. Confused looks crossed both of their faces.

"Why both?" Sylar beat Claire to the question first this time.

"Because I need to speak to both of you at the same time, obviously." Noah said with distinct annoyance and impatience.

Claire looked at Sylar with a smugly pleased look on her face for a second before she directed her attention to her dad.

"Well, what did you want to talk to us about?" Claire asked her father, accepting the fact Sylar would be there if things were to get a little argumentative between them. Not that she cared. He knew her relationship with her father was a 'you win, I win, you win, I win' sort of thing.

Looking at them both through the frames of his glasses, he sighed – almost with defeat it seemed – and motioned toward the two chairs facing his desk, "Sit." It didn't sound like an order, which was different. What was going on? Usually he was tense as hell when Sylar was near Claire, not…tired.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Claire sent him a worried look to match her worried tone. The company had only been up a month, could it really be this stressful?

"Claire, I know you want to get out there and be with the other agents," He started, that same defeated look now being directed towards Claire, "And you know that I absolutely don't want that because you could get hurt," Sylar and Claire both opened their mouth to speak, probably something smartass about her immortality, but he held up his finger and continued before they had a chance, "Don't say you're invincible, because I know that. I know you can't die and the only people who know about your weak spot is close friends and family…and Sylar," Now Sylar had an awkward, innocent look on his face, "But that doesn't mean it doesn't pain me to see you lose a leg or get shot or anything," Noah looked lovingly at Claire, "But that's just the father in me," He gave her a smile, "And the father in me also doesn't want you to be unhappy."

Claire suddenly perked up and her eyes widened, happiness clear on her face, Sylar had to fight to not smile.

"You mean I'm allowed to leave the building and actually help people?" She asked so excitedly, Noah grinned and chuckled.

"Yes, Claire. I'm letting you leave this place to help Specials." His eyes crinkled with his smile and Sylar was all but forgotten as Claire squeaked with excitement and gratitude and ran round the imposing desk to embrace her father, giggling like a little girl that recieved a pony for Christmas.

It wasn't exactly a situation Sylar wanted to be in the middle of so he cleared his throat and found his voice, "Ahem…I don't mean to interrupt this stellar moment but…why am I here exactly?" His eyes shifted from Claire to Bennet and so forth.

Noah cleared his throat and had a serious look on his face now. Claire stepped back with furrowed brows wondering what was troubling her father so much that he had to bring Sylar into it.

"Claire, you may go out as a field agent," He told her again, to reinforce her confidence in him and to somehow soften the blow, "But you have to do it with Sylar." He held her eyes, not daring to look into Sylar's.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HEROES. :)**

**Harrow :) I have to tell you, I'm realllly enjoying writing this fic :) lol. THE PLOT THICKENS! :|**

**smithsbabe65 is TOTALLY AWESOME and my first reviewer ever! :D**

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Sylar and Claire had permanent looks of shock on their faces. And entire parade of elephants could come marching in with turtles on their back singing God Save the Queen, and they wouldn't move a muscle.

The room was dead silent. Not even Noah dared to breathe. He couldn't read past their obvious state of shock. Deciding to slice the tense atmosphere, he speaks.

"I _know _the situation isn't ideal, Claire, but this is the only way I am willing to let you leave." He says in his practiced tone of calm. Even if it wasn't what he was feeling at all.

A few more seconds tick by.

"…Isn't…_IDEAL?_" Claire yelled, the room seeming to answer her with an echo. Though it could've just been the ringing in their ears.

"Now Claire, just calm down-"

"_CALM DOWN? _I'm sorry Dad, but that's impossible! How do you expect me to be okay with this?" The look she gave her father with a mixture of anger and sadness.

"I don't…at first," Looking like she was about to interrupt, Noah put out his hand to silence her, "But it's either this arrangement, or you go back to college."

The look Claire gave him was indescribable. The shock, anger, sadness, confusion all melting into one look that wouldn't be forgotten. She flung her arms out to her sides and scoffed, "You said you didn't want me to be unhappy! But being partnered with _him _is _worse _than staying here all day working on profiles and college will ever be!" She was angry almost to the point of tears.

Deciding Claire was being unreasonable, Noah looked at Sylar. But not much had changed on Sylar's face. Reacting differently to Claire was taken as a good thing in Bennet's eyes. He couldn't handle both of them screaming.

"Sylar?" Bennet snapped him out of his crazy thought process. Sylar dazedly looked up into Bennet's eyes.

"Huh?" Was all he could muster. He was still in a state of shock. Further conversation was sure to be detrimental to his mental wellbeing. Luckily Claire was there to do enough talking/shouting for the both of them.

"I don't accept."Claire said in the sternest and bravest voice she could find. Hopefully her dad would see how displeased she was and reconsider. She would do everything in her power to make him change his mind. But at the same time, she had wanted to work for The Company for so long now. She wanted to work for Primatech, but since that's gone, all she has left is 'Bennet Security', the company's cover. Sure, she wants to work outside the office walls, but working with Sylar is just unacceptable.

"Well then, you're going back to college." Noah said in a matter-of-fact tone. Even going as far as sitting back in his chair and shuffling through some papers he was pretending to be interested in.

Claire was offended and shocked. But had failed to ask the most vital and important question that was sure to receive an intriguing response.

Sylar's mind had unshuffled just long enough to rasp out, "Why?" He looked into Bennet's eyes with intense curiosity, eyebrows burrowed and palms facing upward in a wondering gesture.

Noah placed down his papers and looked Sylar in the eye for what felt like the first time. Taking a deep breath to steady his voice, "Because you're the only one that can protect her." He held Sylar's eyes, seemingly asking, no, _begging _him to understand. A very rare exchange for both of them.

Claire rattled off a stream of curses mixed with unanswered questions. But neither man seemed to notice. Sylar could see Noah's desperation in his eyes. He was probably stressed out of his mind with all of this company business, mixed with Claire's sudden decision to drop out of college (which he doesn't agree with by the way), his divorce, his loneliness having his son taken away from him, Sylar working under him… it'd be too much for anyone. And on top of it all he doesn't need Claire giving him a hard time about wanting to work in the danger zone. Where he can't see her. Shield her.

Sylar, after all, is trying to prove himself to his secluded corner of the world that he's no longer the evil, bad, _despised _Sylar, but the civil humanitarian Sylar. And if this was step one of a sure to be very long journey, then he be damned if he wasn't going to take it and miss such a rare opportunity.

Taking a breath Sylar said, "I'll do it."

Claire whipped her head around so fast any mortal person probably would've broken their neck, "What do you _mean _you'll do it?" Her voice rose methodically the more she spoke.

Sylar turned his head to look at her, "I _mean _I'll be your babysitter till Daddy thinks he can trust you around sharp objects."

Claire hardly thought this was the time to joke. Hardly understanding his metaphor she just guessed what he was trying to say, "I won't do anything _stupid_! I won't purposely go off and hurt myself!" It was like she was trying to convince Sylar instead of her father. Perhaps she knew that if Sylar was willing to be partners, she didn't have a choice, but if she can get him to refuse…maybe she had another chance at trying to convince her dad to atleast think about her and _anyone else _being a team. She broke eye contact with Sylar to look at her father, "And I don't _need _protecting! I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself!"

Noah looked meaningfully at Claire, intent on her making a decision, "Claire," His voice wasn't raised nor was it forceful or stern, "It's either this. Or college. Make your decision, I know how much you want to help special people and this is the only way I'll let you do it." He sat back in his chair and just looked. Looked at her shocked face. Her hurt expression. Her tense body.

Even though she was a handful, she was his daughter. And if that meant needing to protect her, utilizing every resource he had, then that's what he was going to do.

"So that means I have to be paired up with this _psycho?"_ She yelled, missing the fleeting hurt across Sylar's face. He wanted to object but at the same time, he felt he didn't have the right.

"Yes." And that was all she was going to get out of Noah Bennet.

Mimicking the sound Sylar thought only a wildebeest could make, Claire yelled at the top of her surprisingly large voice, "_**FINE!**_" and stormed out of the cluttered office.

Sylar looked at Noah pointedly with the expression seeming to say '_I sure hope you know what you're doing.'_ But without saying any words, he turned around and walked out of Bennet's office.

Well atleast that's over, or so he thought. When he opened and closed the door behind him, he turned round only to nearly bump right into his favourite cheerleader.

Her expression was one of pure anger. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and strolled past her and continued his way down the hall.

"I am _not _going with you," She trailed after him, "You hear me?" The whole section could hear her, "_Why _the _hell _did you say yes?"

He ignored her questions, her shouting, everything and just kept strolling down the various halls it took him to get back to his file room.

Frustrated with Sylar's lack of response, she grabbed his upper arm and stopped him from going any further. All he did was cease his walking, he didn't wrench his arm from her grasp or yell at her for touching him. He just wasn't that kind of guy. Instead he sighed and looked her in the eye. The exasperated look her father seemed to have as well.

"Answer me," She released her hold on his arm and folded her own, "Why?" She was still angry.

"Look, Claire," He began, "This situation isn't exactly ideal for me either. You think I want to be paired with you? Listen to you whine for hours a day?" He ignored her offended look, "No, I don't. But I also know how much you want this. How it's driving you crazy sitting in a goddamn office all day pushing papers at a desk, living life to its boringest," Was he talking about her anymore? "That's why I said yes. I want to prove to you I've changed." He added in a quieter voice, breaking eye contact for a second.

Claire looked at him and unfolded her arms, "Since when did you care about what I want?" And with that said, she stormed off in the opposite direction.

Did she not hear anything he just said? Only that part? He had told her that he was a changed man and wanted to show her just how _nice _he could be. How much he hated it when she looked at him with a split second of fear. Of hatred. He didn't want that life anymore. He was already the most powerful, and he knew it. And he could protect her because of it.

Sighing in defeat, Sylar slowly made his way back to his boring desk to do more boring paper work to file boringly. It wasn't only Claire that was desperate to get out. He wanted it almost as much as her. He always thought he would be the boss of his life, of his actions, even his thoughts. And to an extent he is, when it came to his self-control…what time he would have lunch, all that stuff. But if someone had told him a year ago that he would be working under Bennet's orders…he probably would've laughed and killed them for suggesting such a stupid thing.

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Claire stormed down the halls. Her eyes stinging and filling with tears. If this was some kind of sick, demented joke…she was _not _laughing. Even in 500 years she would never _ever _see 'the funny side' of it.

What was probably worse than the shock and anger was the hurt. Had her father done this just to hurt her? Make her suffer for dropping out of college? Looking Sylar in the eyes and seeing someone different doesn't do good things for her mind. She was so used to seeing the merciless killer that she had a hard time seeing the other side of him that was so Gabriel, yet so…Sylar.

Now entering the small employee kitchen on the west wing of the building, Claire turned and slammed the glass door behind her, twisting the lock to prevent anyone else entering. She hastily pulled the blind string and shut the blinds. She couldn't let anyone see her like this. What if Peter just happened to be strolling around? What about _Sylar? _

Even saying his cursed name in her head made her cringe. This was partially his fault. He knew how much she wanted to help and took advantage of that, they both did! Him and her father!

Thinking about it more only mad her madder and sadder. She squished her palms to her face and slid her back down the door, physically holding her tears in place, not allowing them to streak down her cheeks.

If Claire was anything, she was stubborn. Determined. And if that's anything to go by, then she would be damned if she was going to allow Sylar to get the best of her.

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Flopping lazily into his office chair, Sylar wondered just what the hell he was thinking back there. Actually _accepting _such a crazy deal like that would only lead to repercussions. He wanted something good to come out of it. But had a feeling nothing would.

Claire was so hard-headed she was likely to make his life a living _hell _if she had anything to say about it. But he had lived hell. He went through it. Living life knowing you're going to die alone. No one there to place flowers on your coffin. No one to cry after him, miss him, yearn for his presence. That was something like a hell.

So, theoretically…this wasn't the _worst _thing in the world. Mind you, it was up there. But this was his chance. His chance to show Claire he wasn't her stalker anymore. To _prove _he deserved a place in her life. Because damnit he wanted it. He wanted to be her friend, for unknown reasons. Usually he couldn't care less about being on someone's BFF list. But this was different. This was Claire. The one so similar to him, yet so different. The girl who gave him immortality. Ok well, maybe she didn't _intentionally _give it to him, but that's just a detail.

He was gaining harmony with almost everyone else. (Save for the few like Claire). He had made his peace with the Carnies, with Peter (although spending 5 years with the guy might have helped), with Angela – to an extent. See, he has made not a lot of progress, but _some._ And damnit he was trying. This has been the most effort he has put into anything. Tracking down, chasing, hunting, hurting other Specials was a cake-walk compared to this.

But, if Sylar was anything, he was stubborn. Determined. And if that's anything to go by, then he would be damned if he was going to allow Claire to get the best of him.

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**o ok okk so i've had some reviewwwsss and i'm sooo glad you guys like it :D i plan on updating CLOSE to everyday, but these things take time! so don't hold me to it! :)**

**-MaybeSage**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HEROES. :)**

**Hey guyssss it me againnn, Sage…you know..the one…writing this…fic…no? ok well I guess it doesn't matter :) I love you anyway.**

**My chappys are short! (are they?) :S but I don't know if I want to make them any longer! I kind of like the length they're at. And it allows me to upload sooner, right? :) you guys don't even care do you? HAHEHLOL**

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Walking into the Bennet Security building at 9:30 on Monday morning wasn't the same. What was _also _not the same was entering through the doors the same time as Claire. Now that was just awkward. She didn't even spare him a glance. So he wouldn't do the same. If she wanted to play this game, then he was _so _going to win.

Sylar and Claire both picked up their pace in an attempt to get into the sign-in line first, but alas! Sylar having longer legs than little Claire, beat her to it. Feeling immensely pleased with himself, he turned his head slowly to give Claire a smug smile, only for it to be returned with a childish glare from her.

Punching in at exactly 9:32 am, Sylar was pleased with himself. Having taken his time and forcing Claire to punch in one minute later. He didn't know why he found that so amusing or her finding that so infuriating, but it was.

Proceeding with his morning routine he developed in a month, he and Claire split off in opposite directions after they passed two huge, metal, double-doors. Only glancing back at each other when the other wasn't looking.

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He hadn't been in her presence for more than two minutes and already she wanted to kill him. From racing her to the line to his smug smile to him making her sign in a measly one minute after himself. Everything he did seemed to get on Claire's nerves!

Now as they parted ways to travel down their own partially populated hallways, she turned back only to glare at the back of his stupid head.

Practically growling in frustration, she opened the door to the office she shared with two other employees. Closing the door behind her, she turned and faced her desk. Her _empty _desk. Why it was empty was the question.

She furrowed her brows and slowly approached it.

"Um, guys? Where's all my stuff?" She looked to both of the other people in the room for answers.

They both shared a look with each other and the braver one spoke, "Yeah, uh, your Dad had someone come in here and clear it out for you," Brave One avoided eye contact, "There's a note for you." With his part done, he pulled out a folded piece of paper.

She walked up to him and practically snatched it off him. She opened it without hesitation. It had only one thing written on it, "_Room 657."_

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Sylar strolled down the hall like he owned the joint. He was sick and tired of being the only nice one in this whole damn building. He and Claire had a cute run-in this morning. He had to grin when he was the one to beat her to the line, beat her to sign-in, make her punch in one minute after him. It was all just amusing. Amusing in a fairly childish sort of way, but amusing nonetheless.

They parted ways and he waited a few seconds to turn his head and grin at the back of her pretty little head. Slightly chuckling to himself, he entered the elevator and pushed _6_. The few others on the elevator with him looked instantly uncomfortable when he stepped on. But he didn't care. Not anymore. He placed his hands in his jean pockets and quietly sighed to himself. It had been a week since he had agreed to be partners with Claire. But so far, nothing much had changed. He was still stuck in his empty office with papers to file and reports to update.

He was the only one left on the elevator by the time he reached his floor. It wasn't a particularly crowded floor, so maybe that's why most of the office employees up here felt they could lounge around and hardly fit any work into one day. Even the floor manager didn't seem troubled by the lack of attempt. But maybe that's because he didn't even speak English…

The bell dinged when it had reached his floor, and the double doors slid open slowly. Walking down the corridor, and entering the 15th door on his right, he made his way over to his paper-filled desk. He usually doesn't start his _actual _work till about half an hour into his day. He leaned back on his chair and scanned the room. This is where he had been cooped up for an entire month. And entire month of the smell of freshly inked paper, the sight of the cream coloured walls with no paintings hanging, the loneliness he felt when he looked at the two other desks in the room anyone refused to occupy.

His eyebrows furrowed as he caught sight of a fairly large cardboard box sitting patiently on one of the unoccupied desks. He took his hands down from behind his head and flicked one of his fingers. The box's flaps at the top flew to their sides, opening up the surface. He was curious to see what was in the box, if it was for him or of someone had been forced to room with him at work.

He contemplated it for a second. Then decided against it. He telekinetically closed the flaps back up and put his hands back behind his head.

He was surprised when his humble office door was assaulted as it was forcefully thrown open to reveal a disgruntled Claire. Her eyes widened and she made a face when she caught sight of him. He mimicked her confused/shocked face although his held a level of amusement.

* * *

Claire had a hard time finding the stupid room; she never guessed it would be as easy as being placed on the 6th floor. Mentally slapping herself, she thought _ofcourse _room _6_57 would be on the sixth floor.

The elevator allowed her exit and she slowly made her way down the hall, looking at the door numbers that were placed on the top of the door.

Angry that she had had to travel all the way up here to play cat and mouse with her belongings, she approached the door labelled 657. Throwing it open more forcefully than she had intended, the first sight she caught was of her least favourite person in the world, _Sylar._

Why he was here she didn't know. Her eyes widened, as did his, and her face was frozen in surprise, as was his.

"Umm…" Sylar offered awkwardly. Eyes shifting from side to side.

Claire double checked the piece of paper, then leaned back and checked the door number. Yep, this was it. She looked from Sylar to the other desks. And caught sight of a large box.

Completely ignoring Sylar, she power walked to the box and lifted the lid. Yep, this was her stuff. Just why was it here?

She looked at Sylar with a glare.

He seemed to understand, "Hey, don't look at me." He placed his hands in front of him and had an innocent look on his face.

Just as Claire was about to open her mouth to say something, someone else arrived at the door and handed them each a piece of paper. Without another word, that person left. Probably has other errands to run. Couriers are so busy around here.

It wasn't today's memo for it was addressed to '_Sylar & Claire_'.

Sending each other a confused look, they each opened their letters.

It was from Bennet. Ofcourse. Requesting their presence in his office immediately.

* * *

Noah sighed as he handed two letters to the building messenger.

After about 15 minutes, he expected them both to walk through the door any second.

And they did, both practically bursting in and storming up to the front of his desk.

"Why is my stuff in _his _office?" Claire yelled and pointed a finger at Sylar.

"Yeah, what the hell?" Sylar agreed and furrowed his brows.

"Ok listen, both of you sit down." Noah Bennet fixed his tie and leaned forward on his desk, hands clasped in front of him.

They both occupied the seats they were in just a short week ago. They both looked at the boss expectantly, waiting for him to start explaining.

Bennet cleared his throat, "You two are partners, correct?" He looked each of them in the eye.

"Um, yeah…" Sylar answered, not sure where he was going with this.

Claire's eyes shifted from side to side then replied, "I guess…"

"And _partners _share an office. It just makes things easier for the reports that need to be completed and the messages that come through and such."

"So I'm going to be sharing an office with Sylar?"

"Yeah Claire, he just said that." Sylar rolled his eyes at her.

"Ok ok look," Noah interrupted before either had a chance to say anything else, "When an assignment comes through, you'll be the first team I'll post it to, ok? So you both won't have to be stuck in the office with each other for hours a day, alright?" You could tell he really didn't want a fight. He had a lot of work to do.

"And what if I don't want to?" Claire crossed her arms defiantly and looked her father in the eye.

"Then you won't be given any assignments," He replied, "Simple as that."

Claire's jaw dropped. Why is he being so adamant on her being with Sylar all the time? He couldn't possibly trust the man, could he?

"Now go and unpack your things into your new desk, Claire," He looked at her and smiled, "I'm sure you'll get used to it."

Claire put and angry expression on her face and got up, as did Sylar. Sylar beat her to the door and opened it for her, she exited but not before mumbling "control freak" directed toward her father.

* * *

Sylar continued to follow her down the hall as she walked extremely fast in the direction of _their _new office.

Claire entered through the door and walked immediately over to her new desk and started shuffling through her box, slamming various things onto the desk top as she went.

Sylar sighed and walked behind his own desk, he noticed that some of the papers have gone since he left for that short meeting. If someone had come and taken them or if they flew out the window, he didn't care. As long as they weren't his problem anymore.

Sitting down in his chair, he swivelled round to watch Claire go about her business. Her business being slamming office supplies and papers down on her desk with a permanently angry face. To him, it was actually kind of amusing.

She saw him out of the corner of her eye looking at her. She turned her angry attention onto him, "What?" She barked out.

"Oh, nothing." He replied innocently.

She sighed angrily and turned her full attention to him, "I swear to _God_, Sylar, if you make this anymore painful than it already has to be…I will _end _you." She finished her threat with a heavy glare.

Sylar almost laughed. She was cute when she was angry.

* * *

**OKAYYYY another sage-like short chapter :D but I dunno, I kind of like chapters this long. Because what happens when I'm reading fanfics and the chapters are long as hell, I tend to become tired and disinterested :P and I don't wanna lose you guys to silly long chaptersss! :D**

**-MaybeSage**


	5. Chapter 5

**HIIIIII! :D …**

…**BYYEEEEEE! :D**

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Things were silent in the small office that belonged to Claire and Sylar. Well, silent except for Claire's methodical typing that is. Which Sylar found extremely annoying by the way. Having had to listen to it for almost three hours straight, he wondered if she were typing anything at all and merely doing it to annoy him.

He sighed loudly and cleared his throat, a silent request for her to shut up. He looked to the side of her face, wondering if she could feel him staring. She paused for a brief second then continued on her quest to be the most annoying person alive.

But, who was Sylar to back down from a challenge?

Deciding he had done enough work for today (which was not a lot), he swivelled in his chair to face an empty wall. Picking up a bright tennis ball from his desk, he threw it.

It bounced off the wall, bounced off the floor and back into his hand.

Claire ceased her typing and looked up with her eyes. Not looking at Sylar, she decided to ignore his childishness and continued typing up reports that she hadn't updated since the company began. So there was a lot of work for her. She figured she better get it over and done with before her father came looking for one of the files and yell at her for not being professional or whatever.

So she just cleared her throat to let Sylar know she was busy, not in the mood, and wanted him to stop.

Sylar grinned at her subtly annoyed face. He threw ball again. And again. And again. And again… and again.

Claire breathed in deep, "Sylar," she turned her head to look at him, her eyes serious and wide, "Stop it."

They both held each other's eyes, Claire's eyes fighting to stay calm and not get angry but if he throws that ball _one _more time, so help me god-

Sylar throws the ball one more time, eyes never leaving hers, and Claire snaps.

She grabs the first thing within reach (which just so happens to be her tin of pens and pencils) and hurls it towards him.

He laughs with a "Hey!" and shields himself with his arms and continues laughing.

Pens, pencils and markers scatter across the floor, which he laughs at too. There's no way he's picking that up.

Now frustrated, Claire turns her attention back to her work.

Satisfied Claire is now in a bad mood, he sighs and props his feet up on his desk, placing his hands behind his head.

Bennet said they would get the first assignment that came through, but it's been two weeks! Even just a follow up job would do!

* * *

Noah Bennet wasn't as stressed as he had been before. Not since the company had started. He was starting to get the jist of everything and could work more efficiently now. Work life was good, he was glad to be back in the game. But that didn't change his home-life. He missed his wife. He missed his son. He missed his daughter.

Claire had refused his offer to move back in with him after their fight about college. So, she moved in with Peter. He liked that arrangement better than any other so he would back off for a while. Plus, having Claire living with Peter, she could continue to harass him about joining the company. He could definitely use some of Peter's enthusiasm right now.

Speaking of enthusiasm, he knew Claire and Sylar had hardly any left after he teamed them up. He really thought Claire would refuse and just accept his offer and go back to college! That was plan A. But when does plan A ever succeed? So, plan B was having his strongest asset watch her for him. And so far, he was just going to waste. Bennet thought he better use Sylar somehow. And what better way than having him watch over his dear Claire? Although their childish banter sometimes gets in the way of what they're supposed to be focusing on, they seem like a good team. Both determined, both strong, both smart. Even though even the idea of Sylar being anywhere near Claire makes his gut wrench, her safety means more to him than his feelings.

He was smiling at the memory of her when things were much simpler, much happier, when – speak of the devil – in came, no _stormed _Claire.

"Dad!" She continued to walk till she was at the front of his desk, "Do you have any assignments yet? Do you even _know _how annoying being stuck in a room with Sylar is?" Just as she said his name, in came Sylar with a pleased look on his face.

"As a matter-of-fact, I do." He stated calmly.

That threw Claire right off, "…Oh…" She looked back and gave Sylar a look, a surprised, glad look.

Sylar came to a stop next to Claire and asked, "So, what is it?"

Bennet didn't say anything but handed a manila folder to Sylar. Claire leaned over curiously. Sylar swiftly opened it to reveal a profile layout he's seen many times before.

The photo was a mug shot of a middle-aged man, slightly chunky with dishevelled hair and a slight beard. His name read "Macky Wiberlley." Sylar snorted at the name as he said it.

"He just goes by Mack." Bennet stated.

"You've been after this guy before?" Sylar asked. Claire could tell he's done this before, he seems to be asking all the right questions.

"Only once. Back with the old company," He looked disappointed, "Things didn't go so well."

"What do you mean?" Claire asked.

"He killed two of our teams," He looked down sadly, "Then he got away."

Sylar looked at him sympathetically and asked, "And since then?"

Noah spoke like he never said anything depressing, "Well, he hasn't made it easy for us, but we think we've got him," He looked triumphant, "Ever since the first run-in, he went crazy, paranoid and angry. He just wants to be left alone, but not after the amount of people he's killed."

The room was suddenly awkward and silent. Sylar's eyes shifted from side to side uncomfortably. Claire sensing this, she spoke first, "What do you want us to do with him?"

"It's all in the file Claire," He looked at each of them, "Read it, then get going. It's nearly noon, so you'll reach your destination hopefully without having to stay somewhere for the night." He looked down and touched some of his papers.

"How far away do we have to go? What do you mean stay somewhere?" Claire asked for the both of them.

Noah said nothing but pointed to the file in Sylar's hands. The team looked down at it then each other.

"I love you, Claire. Be Safe." Bennet smiled and got back to writing on his piece of paper.

With that, the couple turned and left his unnecessarily big office.

He knew they would be fine. He didn't _want _Claire chasing a guy that's killed numerous people. But atleast her team mate would give Mack a run for his money. So he was only slightly worried. He didn't want to give Sylar and Claire a hard case, but he did say they would get the first that came through. He only put off giving it to them because he was contemplating not giving it to them at all. But when Claire charged his office, he knew she had enough energy to go after this one.

What the hardest part about this mission was was probably going to be the amount of travelling they would do. He hoped that if they left soon enough, and traffic wasn't that bad, that they would make it to Mack's place without having to stop. But it was unlikely.

* * *

"So he's an illusionist?" Claire asked as she was reading over Sylar's shoulder to look at the file. Ignoring how good he smelt. Damn hormones to hell.

"A _material _illusionist."Sylar answered. Him also having to ignore her scent or the way her hair fell down his shoulder as she was leaning over the back of him while he sat.

"So that means…what exactly?" Claire asked, her breath touching his ear.

Sylar composed himself for a second then answered, "It means the things he creates with his mind, are real."

"So, if he decides to put you on the Great Wall of China, you'll actually _be _in China?" She asked.

Sylar thought about this for a second, "No, he'll just create a whole other Great Wall of China. He's not a teleporter, Claire. He's just an Illusionist." Sylar continued to look at the profile.

"…But I thought you said they weren't illusions?" Claire felt undeniably stupid asking him the same questions over again, but this is her first ever case and she hasn't quite got the hang of it yet.

Sylar sighed, not annoyed with her questions but wishing she would listen closer. Claire didn't take it that way though, mumbling an embarrassed "Sorry", she moved away from him and sat on the edge of her desk.

Sylar chuckled to somehow comfort her, "I'm not mad. I'll explain it to you," He moved his chair so he was facing her and leaned forward, looking up into her eyes, "This guy _is _an illusionist, but they're not necessarily illusions," Claire was listening intently, "They are real, touchable things that he creates with a mere thought. That's why he's a _material _illusionist. He can create solid, real things. And take them away just as easily. Like an illusionist." He looked in her eyes for a second then added, "Do you kind of get what I mean?"

Claire was a bit confused but it was relatively easy to understand, "Yeah, I get it." She offered a small smile and looked away. Still feeling slightly unintelligent.

Sylar accepted this and clapped his hands together, "Good! Let's get going then. It's going to take some time to get there and I don't want to be stuck in afternoon traffic." He got up and retrieved his jacket hanging over the back of his chair. Next he grabbed his keys that were placed on his desk next to his tennis ball.

Claire furrowed her brows, "Just how far is this guy?"

"Pratt." Sylar said like it was nothing.

"Pratt? But we're in Dodge! That's forever away!" She extremely disliked this idea. Very much. There is no _way _they were going to make it before the sun went down.

Sylar smiled, "You've obviously never been in a car with me behind the wheel." His smug smirk was all she got before he exited their office.

She smiled at his confidence and followed him towards the elevator. But she was _also _confident. Confident they weren't going to make it before sundown.

* * *

Sylar had been sooo confident. His driving skills were sure to come in handy in a situation like this. Speeding around sharp corners, hardly making it through red lights, handling the car he's never driven before as if he's owned it his whole life.

But going five miles an hour down a freeway didn't leave much room for his skills to spread their wings.

He practically growled in frustration and honked his horn, like so many other unhappy people were doing. Absolutely nothing had changed when he honked the horn, so he sighed and leaned his head on his hand against the window seal.

Claire chuckled quietly, not intending her driving companion to hear. But nothing could escape his incredible sense of hearing.

Sylar turned his head and glared, "What're you laughing at?" He turned back to his previous position.

Claire laughed once more, "Oh, nothing," She developed a victorious look on her face, "Just thinking about how I won."

Sylar rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, for once." Well, he more mumbled it than said it.

"Quality over quantity, Sylar." She turned her victorious smile onto him and he shook his head, which caused her to laugh again.

Well, atleast she was warming up to him. Maybe being stuck in that stupid office hadn't been a waste of time.

* * *

After about an hour of frustrated sighs and slow moving, Sylar was seriously about to give up.

"Stop being useless and tell me more about this guy." Sylar said more harshly than he had intended.

His insult rolled right over Claire; she turned her small body around and bent so that she could reach the thick manila folder out of the net attached to the back of her seat. Sylar watched her intently, his eyes following the movements of her body perfectly. Before she turned around, he quickly averted his eyes. Cheeks unnoticeably pink when he caught sight of some skin of her lower back. God, she was turning him into a schoolboy.

"Ok," Claire started then opened the first page. "Macky Lorenzo Wiberlley," Sylar laughed slightly again, he just couldn't get over that name. Ignoring him, Claire continued, "Age: 43, height: 5 foot 5, place of birth: Queens, New York-"

He cut her off after that, "Yeah yeah, get to the good bits." Newbie.

Claire skimmed through the general information and went to "the good bits".

"It says here he killed those two teams my dad was talking about back in 07. Their bodies were recovered in pieces." Claire swallowed hard and her gut turned.

Sylar turned his head and looked at her when she ceased to talk and saw the sad/horrified look on her face, "Get used to it, Claire. You wanted this."

She nodded her head quickly and cleared her throat, "Anyway, he was a tax accountant till he lost his job in 06, going insane he attacked his former boss only to find himself on top of the Eiffel Tower," She furrowed her brows at that, "It says when they caught him he said _'All I wanted to do was throw him off the top of that really tall tower in England'_. Well, I guess he's not big on geography." Claire chuckled, as did Sylar.

"What else does it say?" He asked, in a better mood now that the traffic was going an all of 5 kilometres faster.

"He found out it was him that put them on the tower and started tormenting people," Claire made a sound of disgust, "He has killed over fifty people, liking what he does, getting revenge is the most important thing to him in his book, being powerful coming in a close second," Claire's heard this story before, "Sounds like someone I know." She mumbled.

"Knew." Sylar said, not turning to look her in the eye.

Claire sighed and ignored him. She began to think about what he said and how she had just ruined their little harmonious moment.

* * *

Another hour past and the traffic was considerably better. Now travelling down the freeway in heavy traffic at about 40km/h. Atleast it was better than before. The only bad thing was they hadn't made it before the sun went down.

"Why is it always raining in this part of the city?" Sylar wondered, mostly to himself.

A few minutes went by and then Claire perked up, pointing her finger out to her right, "There's one! And it says vacancy!" She said excitedly.

They had been driving down the same damn road for about two hours now, stopping at every motel, hotel and everything in between, hoping to get a room and save themselves from having to sleep in the car. Sylar didn't mind sleeping in the car much; it was Claire that kicked up a fuss about it.

Sylar slowly pulled into the driveway of the obviously low-grade two star motel. He found a space near the check-in booth. Atleast he didn't have to run far.

"Are you coming or are you making me go again?" Sylar asked, with slight annoyance at his current soaking state and her perfect dryness.

"No, I'll come. I have a feeling about this one. I also read the vacancy sign." She smiled at his eye roll.

They both prepared themselves.

"Ok, on three," Sylar looked at Claire, "One…two…_three!_"

They both practically kicked their doors down and slammed them shut. Holding their hands and jackets over their heads, they both made it to the booth within five seconds. Sylar wrenching the door open for Claire then himself, they both entered and despite their efforts, were soaked.

The clerk looked up beyond the rim of his glasses at them, unimpressed. They were getting water all over his carpet.

"One room, one double?" The clerk asked monotony.

The situation just got awkward. "Um, no. Two doubles please." Sylar requested.

The clerk licked the tip of his finger and turned the page. His eyes scanned the page for a few minutes in silence. In this time, Sylar and Claire shared a look that informed each other they felt they same about the strange clerk. Weirded out.

"Ok," The clerk's loud voice was piercing in the small booth, "We have one availability. One and Two Doubles you said?" His shallow brown eyes shifted to Sylar's eyes.

"Yes. Thank you." Sylar replied.

"Okay, and your name please sir?" The Clerk picked up a pen and had put it to paper, waiting.

"Sylar." He answered automatically.

The Clerk gave him a funny look but wrote it down anyway, "Okay, Mr and Mrs Sylar, your room number is 16, we do not offer room service, and have one maid that comes in during the afternoon. Here is your key." He handed Sylar a small key with a worn paper tag attached by a string with the number _16 _written in pencil on it.

Neither Sylar nor Claire decided to correct the man on his use of marital titles. If he couldn't figure out they weren't together by now, even after asking for separate beds, then he was never going to get it.

They each mumbled a "Thank you" and left the booth.

Running back out into the rain, they tracked down their door as fast as they could. Shoving the key into the lock and twisting, Sylar opened the door and they both ran in, glad to be out of the pouring rain.

Wiping his hand down his face and Claire running her fingers through her hair, they both sighed with relief. But their relief was short-lived when they surveyed the room. The wall paper was an ugly shade of dark green, the carpet a worn red, the only light above their heads providing a shallow ray of yellow to illuminate the room. And there was only one bed.

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MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! :D I just looooooooooooooved writing this chappy :) twas a joy.

**Soooo the silly billy clerk gave them a room with only one bed! Uh ooohhh! :D I actually have class till 5:30 pm tomorrow so I don't know if I'll be able to get an update out tomorrow :( I'm sorry! But I will try my darnest :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**-sigh- just got back from my 5:30 class. Sooooo tired. BUT ENERGISED FOR YOUUU :D **

**_ sorry…I'll never do it again…**

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Being soaking wet, tired and now very frustrated did not go over so well with Sylar's patience. If there were no other people in that goddamn booth, he was going to kill the front desk guy.

Sighing, he spoke first to make Claire feel just that little bit less awkward, "I'll go sort it out." He stated, defeated.

Dragging his soaking shoes around to the door, he grudgingly opened it and stepped out into the still pouring rain.

Glad Sylar was gone, the awkwardness in the room hadn't evaporated completely. The first thing that popped into her mind was the two of them sharing a bed. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. Perhaps it was a good thing they didn't get their bags from the trunk, the extra pounds would have slowed her escape from this uncouth predicament.

So instead of screaming or storming into that clerk's booth and do some more screaming, she settled on sitting on the bed, patiently waiting for her partner's return to give her the good news.

* * *

Sylar tapped his fingers impatiently on the front counter. The clerk behind it still payed him no attention. Claire wasn't here, so atleast he had an excuse not to be so polite.

He made sure to clear his throat very loudly and very rudely. The clerk looked up as though he'd seen this a hundred times.

"Can I help you with something, sir?" The guy asked monotony in an obvious middle-eastern accent.

"Yes, actually, you can." Sylar cleared his throat, "Is it too much of a trouble for you to order another room for me and my partner?" His eyebrows rose a fraction.

The clerk looked somewhat horrified, "You want another room? What's wrong with the one I gave you, eh? We're full! No refund!" He swished his arm in the air for Sylar to leave him alone.

Sylar took a deep breath to calm himself. He had hunted down his sick, twisted father for killing his mother, tracked down and sliced open Bob Bishop's head, burned Elle Bishop for helping create him into a monster…but never before in his entire life had he wanted to kill someone so badly.

"You did not give us what we wanted. We requested two doubles, you gave us one double. Now if you would please check your book to see which room with _two doubles _we could have," Sylar's eye twitched, "Please." He said very carefully.

The clerk sighed, agitated. He flicked through a couple of pages and looked at Sylar with hardly any expression, "No." He looked back down and continued his previous work.

Sylar said nothing for a few seconds, "No?...What do you mean no? You mean to tell me you have _no _other available suites left?" Sylar's voice rose the more he talked.

The clerk, again looked up at Sylar with no expression, "Yes."

"…Yes what?"

"No, no rooms."

"But you just said yes!"

"Yes, no rooms."

It took every part of Sylar's self-control not to raise his finger and cut the top of this guy's head off. So instead, he just left.

* * *

Sylar entered into the room in a huff, a scowl on his face.

"What's wrong?" Claire asked as she stood.

"Man, I hate that guy." He mumbled more to himself.

"So, which room did you get us?" Claire plastered a smile on her face for his benefit, maybe to lighten his mood.

He turned slowly and looked at her with an apologetic look on his face, "This one." He turned back around.

Claire's eyebrows rose, "You mean you couldn't get us another room?" She asked, slightly panicked.

Sylar rolled his eyes where she couldn't see then turned around to face her again, "Yeah, Claire. It's my fault, I'm sorry. I'll run and check the room before we book it next time, ok?" Sylar replied sarcastically and sat on the bed and shook his head to release some of the raindrops.

Claire felt half-bad and cleared her throat, "Fine," She said to dignify herself, "But you're sleeping on the floor." And with that, she stuck her chin in the air and marched high and proud into the bathroom where she slammed the door and locked it.

Sylar stared after her, mouth agape. He was just about to retort when-

"And go get our bags!" She yelled from the other side of the door.

She heard him groan exaggeratedly and loudly. She sighed softly to herself.

'_Just one night, Claire. Just one night.'_

_

* * *

_

Sylar didn't know why Claire was angry at _him. _She should be mad at that desk guy! He groaned at her unreasonableness. It's like he could never win with her.

He knows it's partially because she's holding onto the past. Holding onto the hatred she feels for his former self. Throughout their entire relationship, it's been these past few weeks, _days _even that she's been the nicest to him. Deep down he knows he deserves it. But wasn't she the one that said everyone deserves a second chance? Or didn't that apply to him?

Reaching their company car, he pressed the button on his keychain to unlock it. He didn't care about the rain anymore; he would take as long as he wanted. He silently wished the clothes in Claire's duffle bag would get drenched. Just because. Smirking slightly to himself, he picked up the identical company-issued, travel-friendly, black duffle bags and jogged his way back towards the situation that was awaiting him. And by situation, he means Claire.

* * *

Claire just wanted to get this night over with. Probably her biggest problem was being so vulnerable, she's not exactly a heavy sleeper, but she's not a light one either. Out here in the middle of nowhere, Sylar has a car, money, supplies, everything he needs to make a quick getaway after stabbing her in the back of the head. Though she _highly _doubts he'll do it…she shouldn't trust him.

She came off way more snarky than she had intended, but in a situation like this, with a serial killer laying two feet below your level, right next to your bed, she was entitled. She could insult him, tease him, berate him all she wants but not so deep down she knows…she's scared of him.

_Scared of what he used to be? _She thought to herself. Her thoughts were cut short when she heard the man of her nightmares huff through the door and drop what she presumed was their bags onto the floor.

She decided to stop being so immature about this and go out there. She opened the door shyly and stepped out.

Not making eye contact she said, "Sorry..." She quickly glanced into his confused eyes as he stood there soaking, "About…you know…before…" She let her sentence trail off.

It felt extremely weird apologising to the man who murdered her biological parents, terrorised her and stole her power. If she were to tell him this, he would most likely argue "it was his power talking" or something.

Sylar looked to his sides awkwardly, "Um, it's ok. I'm…sorry too…" Why the hell was he apologising for? It just felt polite to say it back but he had no idea what he was talking about. _He _was the one walking around in a hurricane to get her girly supplies from the trunk, _he _was the one to travel out and see if there was another room available, _he _was the one sleeping on the floor tonight!

But when he looked into her face, her apologetic eyes, it didn't matter.

He cleared his throat and picked up her bag (marked only by the pink ribbon she tied onto the handle) and gently placed in into her ready arms.

She mumbled a thanks and went back into the bathroom.

* * *

When she emerged from the small, dirty bathroom, Sylar was just throwing down two pillows he had taken from the bed and a spare blanket probably found in the cupboard. He had taken his drenched coat off to wear his drenched shirt. Which, she noticed totally by accident, clung to his body like nobody's business. His muscles so apparent and defined, she could care less if he caught her staring like a divorced, middle-aged cougar.

But her commitment to herself to not be further embarrassed this evening won over, and she looked away, the image popping into her head anyway.

Her pajamas being some black short shorts and a jersey that displayed her old college's emblem on it, she was quite comfortable to slip under the covers and lay on her back on the lumpy bed. They couldn't have gotten a cheaper motel if they travelled _anywhere._

Sylar didn't bother watching her as she moved into the what was sure to be an uncomfortable bed, he knows, he tried it out to see what he was missing. He had made his 'bed' with one of those scratchy, pink and green blankets everyone seems to have or had owned and a couple of pillows he took from the bed.

Well aware he was still soaking, he picked up his own duffle bag and retreated into the bathroom. There he peeled off all articles of clothing that were soaked and hung them over the towel rack to dry for the morning, they were after all his only pair of jeans he brought with him. He justified wearing them again by telling himself they were cleaned by the rain - hey, everyone does it - and jeans you can wear a few days in a row anyway.

The hot water running over his cold skin had been something similar to heaven. Even using the paper-like soap of the motel that smelled actually quite nice – like vanilla and Shea butter – made his mood lighten.

When he was done with his shower, he stepped into the room wearing some sweats and a gray shirt. Normally he wouldn't of worn a shirt, but tonight it was pretty chilly and Claire would probably throw her shoe at him…

He didn't look forward to the night ahead when he slipped under the scratchy blanket and laid his head down on the pillows.

"Night." He said into the darkness that came from him switching off the lights from where he lay.

Her quiet "Night" was her reply and he closed his eyes to try and get some shut-eye. They were sure to have an eventful day tomorrow.

* * *

Both of their eyes were open and staring at the ceiling some three hours later. Neither had dared to speak or even move in that time.

The situation was just awkward. Not because they were sharing a room, no, that was nothing compared to _this. _Claire would've _preferred _Sylar in the bed with her than have this go on.

The people on the other side of the wall showed no trace of stopping. Or even slowing their manic pace for that matter. The constant bumping, no, _slamming _on the wall just behind her head was enough to make Claire feel nauseous. Every move they made was reflected with a heavy shake of her bed.

She rolled slightly to her right to look down at Sylar. His eyes were wide open and his body rigid. She couldn't help herself, so she snorted. In return he looked amused and moved his head to face her slightly upward face. They both looked into each other's eyes and laughed slightly and turned back around. But the bumping was too much for Claire.

Without saying anything, she threw her blankets off herself and slid off the bed. She walked the few paces over to Sylar's side and lifted his blanket just enough for herself to slip under.

Sylar was surprised, but at the same time, glad. She hadn't lain too far away from him, but not so they were touching either. He laughed slightly at her actions, and she laughed in return.

They both turned their heads to look at each other's eyes and laughed some more. After all, what could you do in a situation like this?

She stole the pillow his head was resting on and dragged it over to lay her head down on it then turned on her side, away from him. An amused smile still plastered on her face.

Sylar chuckled and fixed his head on his remaining pillow. She was so bi-polar sometimes, so north and south. One minute she would be tearing your throat out, the next, she was in 'bed' with you. Sylar was only glad he hadn't been the one to feel the rippling, catastrophic effects of the actions performed by their neighbours.

He turned and lay on his side the same way Claire had. His eyes running over her blonde hair that seemed lighter in the moonlight than it did in the sun. He wanted to touch it to see of it felt the way it looked. But he had some of his dignity and control intact after Claire's little move so his hands remained where they were, one under his head under the pillow and the other resting on his side.

Claire didn't know _why _she moved. Except for obvious reasons. But to get under the covers with Sylar! Man, she was tired. She felt him turn over to face the same way she was, his face so close she felt every breath he took on the back of her neck, giving her goosebumps. The pillow she took from him smelled like him. Not like the tacky but nice smelling soap of the motel, but like Sylar. She didn't want to look to obvious so she pretended to sigh, inhaling the odour for it to burn into her brain and never be forgotten. She was slowly starting to like him, though it had taken some time and effort on his part, she was getting used to the idea of this new Sylar.

Feeling his breath on the back of her neck slow to a slumberous pace, she very gently moved her body and turned around. She was now less than an inch away, nose-to-nose with him. His angelic sleeping face held no resemblance to the scary killer her mind hardly remembered.

She wondered how far she could take this. Biting her bottom lip she lifted her index finger and poked his cheek, quickly retreating it and closing her eyes as though she were asleep if he were to wake up. But nothing happened, he hadn't moved. She smiled and bit her lip again, raising her finger, she poked his chest. Still nothing. It was actually quite amusing. She briefly wondered if he had felt any of the concerns she had felt about vulnerability and safety. Probably not, he was so confident and cocky he could give her some and still feel like he could take over the world.

She knew this realisation was going to come, she didn't expect so soon but she knew she would start to realise she was on her way to forgiving Sylar.

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**Hey Alic look! :D I'm updating! you don't have to get angry and commit first degree murder! :D**

**So guyyys, mixed reactions about this chappy? :S I'll probably expect that :(**

**I was actually not going to put Claire wandering over to Sylar so soon (should i not have?) but…. I couldn't resist :D teehee x] review!#%#%!**


	7. Chapter 7

**HEY AY SAYCHAY :D (you know who you are ;) ) LOL ….. -_- my dignity…**

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Claire was only partially aware of her surroundings. What she _was _aware of however was a very warm spot in the middle of her back. She shifted a bit and noticed this warm spot had weight to it. She groaned internally and hefted herself up on her hands to inspect this warm spot.

She mouth made a small 'o' when she realised it was Sylar's hand resting in the centre of her back, trailing her eyes from his hand to his outstretched arm that (thankfully) put some distance between them, and to his face that was away from her.

She contemplated waking him up till she looked at the time. _5:16? Why the hell am I awake? _

She directed her attention on being very, extremely, mouse-like quiet. Considering Sylar's hearing, he would probably wake up if he heard a mouse anyway.

She very carefully and gently lowered herself back to the ground and rested her head on the pillow again. A breeze rolled in from under the door, which she felt immediately due to her place on the _ground._ Her body shivered, except for that large warm spot though.

Claire looked over Sylar's sleeping form and considered. She was _pretty _chilly right now...

She was only half-aware that she was making excuses for the move she was considering. If he were to wake up, she would pretend to be asleep and just moving round…nothing suss.

Very carefully, similar to the gentleness a thief would use to steal the Queen's crown while she was wearing it, she slid – no shuffled inch by inch till she was resting against Sylar's side.

Checking that he was still asleep, she wondered just how far she could or _should _take it. Pursing her lips, she nestled further into his side till he was weighing down on her, her face under his shoulder as he lay on his stomach.

She was as warm as a polar bear in the desert, however she hadn't calculated for the possibility of _him _moving. And oh, did he move. He moved so his arm was now wrapped tightly around her torso, he moved his head so he was now face to face with her, he moved his arm that was previously under the pillow now to under her head _creating _a pillow for her.

She didn't want to be awake when he woke up that's for damn sure. Plus, this position was surprisingly comfortable, now she knew why people wrapped themselves around each other just before they went to sleep. It was also intensely intimate and somehow romantic. She tried to imagine anyone else but Sylar there with her. West maybe, even _Zach _but at the same time…all she wanted was Sylar. Right now, she knew Sylar's body better than any guy's at this point (partially due to her lack of experience), and she sizzled with the sentimentality. Thinking about sharing her first night with a male that wasn't Mr Muggles, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

'Don't. _Move._' was the first thing that popped into Sylar's mind after he slowly opened his eyes. And after shielding them from the sun's light, he not long after realised he was more or less entangled with Claire, looking like one was being an alligator and the other a wrestler and given up somewhere in the middle of battle.

'_Oh man, if she wakes up…I'm _so _dead.' _So what Sylar opted to do was try and figure out a way out of this.

He wondered if he could somehow pull his arm out…no, that wouldn't work. Maybe he could move Claire slightly to the left and…no, that wouldn't work either.

Perhaps he should just wait till she woke up? He gently removed his arm from around Claire's waist and searched around the floor space behind him till his fingers brushed his phone. Grasping it, he brought it to his face and read _6:44._

He sighed. He had wanted to get out of this dump by 5:30 maybe 6:00.

But he didn't want to move. He was so content. So content laying here with the girl that had one point, actually succeeded in killing him, the girl that he wanted most to prove wrong, the girl he wanted to love him. No matter how deluded his list was, he would continue to dream, to want.

He rested his cheek against hers before he gently kissed it. She stirred stiffly and stretched against his body, but he didn't let go. After she settled he decided to wake her up.

He put his mouth to her ear, "Claire," He whispered, "Wake up."

She groaned softly and stirred but nothing else.

He chuckled softly and said again, "Claire, wake up."

Her reply was cracked, "No." Then she buried further into him. She was obviously still 90% asleep otherwise she would've shot herself in the foot if she consciously did that. Or so he thought.

He breathlessly chuckled again, "Why not?"

She rubbed her face against him for a second then said, "Because. Shut up."

He laughed at this and she groaned at his volume, "It's nearly 7:00. We were meant to get going nearly an hour ago."

"I don't care. It's cold out there."

"And you're warm now?" He asked just to hear her say it.

"Yes." She unconsciously rested her palm against his neck.

He got bold, "…So would you ever do it again?" He smirked.

She lifted her head up to look into his eyes. Way to ruin it _Sylar._ All she got in reply though was Sylar's booming laugh and thrown back head.

Ok, now she was awake, "Get off me." She said and began to push at him.

Still laughing he said, "No no, I'm sorry." He held her tighter.

"No, get off." Claire continued pushing him and he let go with a load laughing groan.

She threw off the blankets and instantly regretted it when the chill of the morning and leftover rain hit her exposed legs. Maybe she should've stayed in bed…No!

"Now get up or we're going to have to stay somewhere on the way back." She avoided eye contact with him because she just _knew _what his face would look like right now.

* * *

Clean from the shower before bed, she didn't need one in the morning, so she just put some makeup on and psyched herself for her meeting with a serial killer. It's not like this would be the first serial killer she's met and spoken with, and certainly doesn't sound like the scariest. She was practically a seasoned veteran at meetings with killers, so this should be an easy as pie job. Theoretically.

After everyone was dressed and packed, they exited their crappy room and walked to the car.

"Aren't you going to sign us out?" Claire asked with her hand on the car door handle.

Sylar almost laughed, "I'm not going back in there. You do it." He laughed to himself and slid in the car.

Claire made a slightly annoyed face and headed to the unwelcoming booth. Literally, there wasn't even a welcome sign on the door, which was surprising for a motel.

She stepped in the warm room and the bell above the door dinged in response. The same guy from yesterday poked his head around the corner and caught sight of her. She waved shyly and he grinned his half-toothless grin.

The guy quickly came up behind the counter, "Ah! Mrs Sylar! Did you enjoy your stay? You want another night? I give you discount, just for you, yeah?"

Claire quickly shook her head and smiled awkwardly, "Um, no thank you. Just checking out."

The guy's face instantly dropped, he looked past her head out the window and spotted the waiting car, "Ah, fine then. I get it. I thought he would left after we fight last night." He mumbled to the paper he was crossing their names off of.

Claire furrowed her brows, "Sorry about him. He was just tired." She defended Sylar although she had no idea what he was talking about.

The clerk said nothing to her but gave her a receipt which he wrote himself.

Claire turned slowly, her eyes widening for a second at his strangeness. She exited the booth and approached the car. She slipped in and scrunched the piece of paper up and threw it on the backseat.

Sylar revved the car to life and sped out of that guy's parking lot just for good measure, "Let's get out of here." And they were on their way to Pratt.

* * *

Claire was still looking at that file, just reading trivial little things about this guy. She never read the page they were _supposed _to be reading. Like their objectives when they were to meet this Mack guy.

It's probably best she not know till the last minute anyway. Knowing her, she'd probably go all humanitarian on him and cry.

The drive was relatively fast, having covered a lot of ground yesterday. Claire wanted to know about Mack. This was her first case and she wanted to remember it. Sylar's done it before so he's probably not as into it as she.

She had read his personal info page a hundred times over, she flipped the page and read their task requirements and outcomes.

It was all about locating the target, subduing him, directions to go in for different scenarios, killing him-

"…_Kill_ him?" Claire whipped her head around to look at the side of Sylar's face.

"Yes." Was his simple reply.

"I wasn't told we'd have to kill the guy!" Claire spoke angrily.

"It's part of the job, Claire. Sometimes it has to be done."

"Oh, what? Like it was done to you?"

He turned his head and looked at her, glancing every few seconds back to the deserted road, "In case you've forgotten, you, your dad, Peter, _everyone _tried to kill me. Just because you didn't succeed doesn't mean it wasn't written for someone to read." He turned back to the road.

"I'm not trying to kill you now."

"Because you can't." Sylar tried to consider this wasn't the only reason she hadn't tried to kill him yet.

"Everyone gave you a chance and it worked and now you're not like you were before." She couldn't bring herself to say he was _different, _to say he was _good._

"No," Sylar pointed at his chest, "I gave _myself _a chance." He said emotionally, knowing she had hit a soft spot. "If any of you had it your way, I'd be dead."

She looked at him angrily and shocked, "How can you say that? We _have _given you a chance! More than one! The others, they forgive you! They _trust _you!" Ok maybe not _trust, _but she was trying to get a point across.

His tone softened, "And what about you? Do you trust me?"

"No! I don't!" She turned towards him angrily, "You know why Sylar? Because you're a killer." She faced the front windshield and crossed her arms over her chest.

She heard Sylar say nothing, and she didn't want to look at his face.

* * *

He wasn't going to admit that what she said cut him. He hardly wanted to admit it to himself. He thought they were getting along…after last night, the fun games, and playful arguments…was she just doing that to mess with him? Mess with his rehabilitation?

He hadn't said anything after that, in fear of his voice cracking or him saying something he might regret. He would just concentrate on getting the job done then going home. Or lack thereof. After his spree had ended, he didn't have a place to go back to. Not his previous home, not his mother's. Peter had offered him his spare room; apparently it was hard not living with someone after you've lived with them for five years in an empty world. But he couldn't do it. He felt unbelievably guilty; he didn't know he was capable of guilt and remorse after what he'd done when he was evil-Sylar. Plus Claire was there. And he knew for a fact she wasn't ready to see him being nice after a year of watching him be cruel. So he just set up home at a pay-per-night motel towards the edge of the city, where it was cheaper.

He felt he should apologise for something, but at the same time too prideful. Plus, _she _should be the one apologising. Making him feel like crap after he'd changed his life to accommodate the feelings of others. He decided then he deserves a medal of some almost scoffed at the idea.

* * *

"…He lives _here?_" Claire asked unbelievably.

Sylar sighed, hand on the door handle, "Shoulda seen my place…" He said jokingly, and stepped out of the car.

Claire laughed internally, he was funny when he wanted to be. But he was also a jerk when he wanted to be. She copied him and stepped out of the car.

She tried to take in the dirty old farmhouse's exterior. She grimaced at the dirt coloured wood panelling, the weeds that were growing unhindered to obscure the view of the mailbox, most of the short wooden fence and the windows. The grass was a pale dark green sort of colour, like the grass was sick or something. Her mother would've had a heart attack and at the same time, a field day cleaning up this garden.

Sylar had a similar opinion. It looked quite daunting, so unwelcoming. He pressed the button on his key to signal the car to be locked. It chirped happily and he wiggled the handle to check it was locked like he always did, just a small habit.

Neither wanted to be the first to approach the rotted wood of the front door that smelled like a racoon, but he knew she would make him go anyway. Looking at Claire for a second, he banged three times on the door, it creaking under pressure.

There was movement inside and their eyes travelled over the door, waiting for it to open. But the door made no movement.

"Who is it?" A raspy voice came from the other side.

"Tax office, would you please open up sir?" Great! He had to chose to imitate the most hated people in the world. But he had to think and say the first thing that came to his mind, and he knew the tax office would want him to do _something _about all of the unopened bills shoved in the letter box.

"Go away! Get off my property or I'll get my gun!" The voice was slightly panicked on the other side.

Claire made a deadpanned face at Sylar, he just shrugged his innocence, "Sir, we only want to talk to you." Claire offered.

"…You're a girl?" The voice asked in an unbelieving tone.

Sylar just rolled his eyes, "Yeah, now are you going to let us in?"

The voice seemed to contemplate this, "No!" He said after they waited a few seconds for a response.

Sylar and Claire gave each other a look when they heard retreating footsteps on the other side. Claire nodded to Sylar.

Using his telekinesis, he lifted his finger over the lock then quietly unlocked the double-bolted door and twisted the doorknob slowly. Despite it's appearance, it was relatively unrusty and made no noise.

Claire pulled out her gun carefully and pointed it downwards as they both crept into the foyer of the house. It was basically the same as the outside, old, dirty and unloved. Though she wasn't surprised to see a few stuffed animals that he had probably killed himself.

Sylar didn't bother pulling out his gun; he was deadlier than any weapon anyway. He turned back to Claire who was looking quite terrified and put a finger to his lips motioning for her to move silently. Well duh Sylar, she was going to do that anyway.

He continued to creep down the narrow hallway in search of the deep breaths his acute hearing was picking up. He came up to a small back room that was lit by the mid-morning sun.

Over the far side of said room, stood a fairly short man loading ammo into a gun with his back turned. He looked pointedly at Claire and motioned for her to be quiet again then pointed to the man because he knew she couldn't see past him into the small room. Claire's eyes widened a fraction at the realisation that their target was in the next room.

Taking the opportunity to strike, Sylar rose his arm and pointed his index finger at the man's head. He swished his finger to the left and the man's head did the same. With a sickening crack, Claire could hardly hold back the small gasp that escaped her; she quickly covered her mouth with her hand when Sylar looked at her.

The man's neck was twisted in an unnatural way and the gun he was loading fell to the floor with a thump. Sylar breathed out a sigh at the sight. That man's power would've been useful. Would've made a great addition to his collection. Well, he was dead now and his brain unharmed…perhaps he could just…

Sylar's head whipped round the same time a gunshot went off. But it wasn't Claire's gun, this gun was bigger.

Claire felt several sharp points of pain on her back and upper arms, it felt like just a pressure at first but when the realisation started to sink in that she was shot…she screamed.

Sylar was immediately at her side, hands waving over her in search for something to do.

"I thought you killed him!" Claire yelled while squirming on the floor from the bullets that were now making their way out of her body.

"I did!" Sylar looked round to see the body, just as his eyes had made contact with it's lifeless form, it wavered, like the horizon on a hot day and disappeared before his eyes, "Damnit." He cursed silently.

The blood on Claire's clothes was the only evidence that she had ever been shot. Sylar wrapped his hand around her upper arm and pulled her to her feet and she stood stiffly. Both of their eyes darting round like crazy, but meeting nothing but empty rooms.

Sylar quickly bent down and picked up Claire's gun and handed it to her, eyes never leaving their surroundings.

"C'mon." Sylar began to drag Claire towards the front door, his plan was to put her in the car safely then go back for this son of a bitch.

But just before he could reach out and wrench the door open, the doorknob disappeared; the wood beneath it appearing like it was never there in the first place. A few seconds after the doorknob had disappeared; the wall behind it began to change too. The air around it wavering like he had seen the body do.

He and Claire stepped back a few paces. They turned around only to meet a very different house than the one they had entered. This house was grand. Luxurious.

"What the…?" The question hung in the air after Claire asked it.

They both heard footsteps clacking on the white marble of the floors. They were both looking around manically, but saw nothing. They looked at each other, and at the same time realised the footsteps were not heard at their level. Their eyes travelled to the top of the sweeping staircase only to be stopped by the sight of, what was undoubtedly, Mack.

He was just as the description had said. Short, pudgy, middle-aged. He was wearing what Sylar thought was a butler's suit. The man could create anything he wanted with a thought, and he chose to wear a _butler's outfit?_

"I gave you a chance to leave." Mack said loudly, and his form wavered and he disappeared.

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**OMGGG I was sooo going to continue writing this chapter but then I looked and it was a bit long :) ….please don't shoot me :) I'll update asap, which will probably be tomorrow :D but I like reading fanfiction just as much as I like writing it and I wanna read some! XS**

**i considered like taking away the bit about them two in the bed, but then i realised this is fanfiction and i can do whatever i want :) much love!**

**I love you :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey peeeeps :) hope the cliffhanger was enough to bring you back for another :D ….hello?...anyone there?... :( **

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"Crap." Sylar said through clenched jaws, eyes going from the staircase to everywhere else in a matter of seconds.

Claire pulled her arm out of Sylar's grasp and ran to the front door, she quickly grabbed the doorknob in fear of it disappearing of she were too slow. She grasped it and turned it as hard as she could, but it didn't even make a sound. Even as she rattled it there was no evidence that it could be turned at all.

"Move." Sylar commanded.

Claire turned and saw his raised arm and quickly jumped out of the way, steadying herself with a hold of his jacket when she underestimated how much adrenaline was coursing through her. She barely had enough time to duck her head behind his back before she felt a strong force of air flip her hair widely even though she was behind her protector.

The entire wall where the door had resided now didn't exist. Only it's rubble was evidence of it ever being there.

Sylar grabbed Claire's hand and ran forward. One might think behind a front door, there would be the outside world. But not in this world, Sylar and Claire ran into another grand room. A dining room it appears. At the other side of the room was another door. From where he stood, Sylar raised his arm and flicked his wrist and that wall blew out too. Again, they ran forward only to enter another room. Exactly like the one they had before. Sylar growled in frustration. There had to be another way.

Sylar pulled Claire with him over to the windows which were covered with mile high curtains. He ripped back one half. Behind the curtain…was a door.

Sylar didn't ever bother to step back as he wrenched his companion behind him and blew an elephant sized hole in the wall. He looked disbelievingly at the sight before him; it was the same room they had just come out of, which was like the other two rooms they had escaped.

Giving up, Sylar yelled into the air, "Ok! What do you want? Come here and face me you son of a bitch!"

The only response he got was loud laughter in the form of a whisper in his ear. He jerked back from the noise so close to his ear and spun to face it, but nothing was there.

"Maybe we should try something else!" Was Claire's frightened suggestion.

He whirled on her, "Like what, Claire? Huh? What do you suggest we do?"

"I don't know! Anything but stand here like idiots while he toys with us!"Claire wrenched her hand from Sylar's and began storming in the other direction, back through the walls Sylar had burst open.

"Now where are you going?" He yelled after her and ran to catch up.

"Trying to find a way out _obviously_!" She said and continued to walk away.

"That's what I've been _trying_ to do!"

"No! All you were doing was exploding walls to enter the next room, which was the _same one!_"

"Well, sooor_ry_ for trying to do something, next time you can blow a hole in the wall so we can get through, how does that sound?"

Claire let out a frustrated groan and came to a stop in front of the staircase Mack had been standing on moments ago. Claire seemed to study it before taking a step on it. It didn't waver or disappear so she took another step, and another, and another.

She looked back at Sylar smugly, "Are you coming?"

Sylar made a face at her and followed her. They took each step like they were travelling across a minefield the size of Texas.

But had stopped their sluggish pace when the stairs didn't seem to end. Ever. As far as they could see, the circular staircase seemed to go on forever.

They turned back to see their progress to find the floor staring back at them mockingly from where Claire had stopped before to tell Sylar to hurry up.

"So much for just a fired tax accountant."Claire said, more than a little frustrated.

"It's fun isn't it?"

_Mack! _

Claire and Sylar whipped their head around to see him standing at the top of the staircase, which seemed to be his favourite place thought Sylar.

Before Mack had another chance at getting out another syllable, Sylar raised his right arm and shot a stream of blue lightning into the man's chest. Mack convulsed and twisted unnaturally before falling on the step he had been standing on, a smoking, black dent in the centre of his chest.

But neither of them were fooled. None of them rushed to check his pulse or poke him with a stick…they knew that wasn't the real Mack. And their suspicions were confirmed when the lifeless copy wavered and disappeared like so many other things in this place.

"Coward." Claire said under her breath.

"For what?" They both whirled around to see Mack now at the _bottom _of the staircase, "For protecting myself?" Mack made a disappointed and amused face at them both.

Claire couldn't answer for a second, "No, for hiding." She said with not much confidence at all.

"Well," Mack took a few steps to his right, "That's neither here nor there." He smiled at their faces, "Who are you?" His smile patronizing them.

"You know who we are." Sylar answered with enough malice to tranquilise a bull.

"No no," Mack waved his hand in the air, "I mean, what are your names?" He continued smiling at them, "I know you work for the Company. That part's obvious. But I want to know what to write on each piece of your bodies…you know, for referencing." It was obvious he was trying very hard not to laugh at his own sick, demented sense of humour.

Claire shared a nervous look with Sylar.

She cleared her throat to speak clearly, "Claire." She answered.

"Ah, Claire. Such a pretty name." He took a few more steps in the other direction and clasped his hands in front of him, "Now tell me Claire, how long have you known you could heal?" He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Claire opened her mouth to tell him to shove his question up his-

"I wonder," He interrupted her thoughts with his smooth tone, "If I were to chop up that fan_tastic _body of yours…which piece would begin regenerating? Which piece would know which was which?" He chuckled slightly and averted his eyes to Sylar's, "Now, enough about you Claire. What about your friend here, what's your name, young man?"

"Sylar." He replied with hatred.

Mack's smile faltered. He looked between the two almost nervously, his façade crumbling before them.

"Sylar?...As in…_Sylar _Sylar?" Mack wondered, trying to sound confident and pleasantly surprised.

"Yes." Sylar replied and heard the man's heartbeat increase 60% of it's already racing pace.

Mack made an 'Hm' sound and disappeared.

* * *

"This guy _definitely _surpasses the clerk guy now…" Sylar mumbled to himself.

"What?" Claire asked from her position behind Sylar, both trudging through more rubble created by Sylar's destructive hand.

"Nothing."

Deciding it wasn't important, Claire left it. "How long has it been now?" She asked, feeling exhausted.

Sylar stopped a bit breathlessly to look at his phone for the time, "8 hours." He replied with definite annoyance.

"And the reception?"

Sylar shifted his eyes to the lack of little white bars, "None." He slipped his phone back into his pocket and took another step.

"Wait," Claire leaned heavily on the wall, "Can't we rest for a while?" She looked pleadingly at him.

He took pity on her this time, since he hadn't let them rest since the 5 hour mark, he sighed, "Sure." From there he slid down the same wall Claire was leaning on.

He heard Claire mumble a "Thank God." And she slid down next to him.

"I'm so thirsty." She said a little dryly.

"Well you never know, after we get through all these dining rooms, the kitchens might be our next discovery." Sylar laughed breathlessly, just once.

Claire turned and deadpanned looking at him, "Not the time, Sylar."

He shrugged, "Sorry."

Both sat there for a while. It could've been an hour, it could've been five minutes, neither had the energy to check.

Sylar laid his head back onto the wall and closed his tired eyes. He went to open them again, but decided he needed just five more minutes.

Five minutes turned into two hours, two hours turned into four and four turned into six.

He awoke, as did his aching muscles, sending new waves of pain every time he moved. Kind of like those boxing classes he took as a requirement for his field agent test. But due to his ability, those aching pains didn't last long.

Sylar turned to see where Claire was only to come face first with the top of her head, which was resting on his shoulder. He heard her making soft sleeping sounds and decided he could wait a few minutes before he would wake her up.

A few minutes came and went. He had a feeling of _serious_ dejavu.

He smiled and the recognised memory, "Claire." He gently pushed her face up with his own to get better access to her ear.

She groaned a bit and wrapped her hands around his upper arm.

He laughed, "Claire, wake up." He copied his words from the last time.

She reluctantly opened her eyes and removed one hand to rub them. She looked around her and groaned, "Crap, we're still here."

He laughed at that, "Yeah, well," He looked at his surroundings as well, "There aren't many dreams as sweet as this one."

She snorted and removed herself from him. She stretched her shoulders, moving them in circles and smiling when she heard the satisfying cracks.

Sylar made a disgusted face at her, which she returned, and stood up, stretching and contorting his own body.

"So," Claire looked at the extremely familiar dining setting of the room and looked up at Sylar, "Where to next?" She smiled.

Sylar smiled back at her, still stretching, "Oh, I don't know. Maybe going to look at dining suites today."

"Cool. Let's go." Claire chuckled and stood.

Sylar did the same and moved towards the wall that wasn't blown out. He raised his hand and it exploded into rubble. They both climbed through.

"Oh, I quite like this one. What about you?" Claire asked looking back at him.

Sylar looked thoughtful, "Hmm…I don't know, I have a feeling I'll like the next one better."

He blast the adjacent wall and they walked into the next room.

"Mm, I knew I'd like this one better." Sylar said when they passed through. They both laughed at their stupidity.

"I wish I could burst through a wall without having to touch it." Claire pondered.

Sylar was surprised at her apparent interest in his favourite power, "It's fun." Was all he said in reply.

"What does it feel like?" She asked him.

He thought about this for a second, "I've never actually thought about it."

"But do you feel anything yourself when you move something?" She turned back to look at him for a second while walking.

"Yeah."

"…Care to elaborate?" She asked while laughing.

"I don't know if I can explain it," He laughed slightly himself, "Like a push or pull at the tips of my fingers, then a constant pulse kind of. Like an ache that doesn't hurt. But that only lasts for a fraction of a second." He tried to explain.

"And what about when you use your electricity?" She wondered, careful not to say '_the electricity you stole' _or _'Elle's lightning'_.

"Definitely not the same…more intense. But I guess that's because it requires more energy."

She stopped herself from saying _'You're lucky you get to have so many abilities…' _because then that would lead to the painful argument of _how _he got so many abilities.

Sylar heard her hesitancy, "You don't have to walk on egg shells around me you know…"

She turned her head to give him a weak smile, "Sorry. I just don't know what to say."

"Well I'm sure I deserve anything you have to say to me." He said, slightly pained.

"I know you think you deserve it," She turned and looked at him again, "Peter told me."

Sylar rolled his eyes. Peter. Ofcourse he did. They _did _live together.

"…So what else did he tell you?" He wondered, trying to sound nonchalant.

She turned back with a slightly guilty look on her face. Similar to the expression the cat that ate the canary would've had.

"Ah." Was all he said.

"He didn't tell me much." She tried to justify.

"But enough." Sylar countered.

"Yeah, but it was just after I found out you were my partner, and he wanted to encourage me…or convince me or something."

Sylar stayed silent after that. He hoped Peter could convince her if he couldn't.

* * *

They had gone through so many dining rooms, neither bothered to keep count. One blasted wall after another, this was getting kind of old.

After Sylar obliterated one more wall, he gave up, "Ok! That's it! I'm _over _it." He threw his arms up in the air and landed them on his hips.

Claire turned back to tell him they couldn't just _quit _when her eyes fell on something…no some_one _staring at the back of Sylar's head with an expression of disappointment and fear.

Sylar noticed this and he furrowed his brows, "What?"

"Gabriel?"

Sylar's eyes widened and he turned around.

"…Mom?" He spoke to the woman with a pair of scissors protruding from her chest.

**

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**

Wow… :) my fingers hurt.


	9. Chapter 9

**Actually writing this the same day I started chapter 8 :D couldn't keep it in XD**

* * *

Claire mentally smacked herself for not recognising the woman before. She had seen her dead body in the news papers.

Sylar was staring distantly at her, almost as though he thought she was real.

She tugged on his hand, "Sylar, let's go!" She tugged some more and he followed without really turning from his dead mother.

"Gabriel! Where are you going? Come back!" His mother shouted after them as they ran.

Sylar chest panged with hurt when he recognised his mother's face. A face he hasn't seen in ages, one he almost didn't recognise. And when his eyes travelled down to the scissors…he almost collapsed to his knees and begged to be forgiven. He wanted to go back, he wanted to see her again. He missed her.

Sylar started resisting against Claire, being ten times stronger than her even without any powers, this was easily done and he started leading them back towards his 'mother'.

Claire realised what he was doing and formed a look of panic on her face, "Sylar, no! She's not real!" He only spared her a glance.

She stepped in front of him and pushed on his torso, "Sylar, look at me," He reluctantly pulled his eyes from where his mother had stood seconds ago, "Sylar, it's a trick-"

"I _know _that." He said defensively and tried to push her out of the way, but she resisted with everything she had.

"No, you don't!" She looked into his eyes. She smacked him on the chest, arms, shoulders, "_This! This _is real!" She grabbed his hands and put them on the sides of her face, "She's not real, Sylar. _We _are real."

Sylar's eyes wandered from Claire's panic stricken ones.

"I know." He whispered, detached.

"Then let's go." She removed his hands but kept one in hers. From there she began to pull him away.

They turned. And stopped.

"You've disappointed me once again, Gabriel." Mom's face was full of sadness and disappointment.

"I'm sorry." Claire heard Sylar whisper from behind her. She turned and saw his eyes were slightly glazed over, "It was an accident."

"Liar!" His mother grew angry, "Do not lie to me Gabriel Gray!"

Claire glared at the woman, "Go away."

"This is between me and my son, missy. Stay out of it!" Her face was growing red with her artificial anger.

"Don't talk to her like that." Sylar still couldn't get his voice above a whisper.

Mom's eyes snapped at Sylar's, "You would speak to me like that? Even after what you did?" She yelled across the room, her voice echoing and she pointed to the scissors in her chest, covered in blood.

"_That was an accident!_" He yelled back louder than Claire had ever heard him yell before.

He gripped Claire's hand and faced away from his mother and began walking swiftly.

Claire looked up to see Sylar's glazed eyes slowly release just one tear he didn't notice. He also had a thin sheen of sweat over his face.

Claire looked back in time to see his mother's body waver…then disappear.

Sylar stopped walking after he dragged them both across dozens of dining rooms in a breathless halt.

"Hey," Claire began and he lifted his head to look at her, "Don't listen."

"I'm sorry," His chin quivered and she moved her hands to brush a few stray tears from his pained face, "It was an accident."

"I believe you." She said quietly and he laid his head on her shoulder.

She hugged him round his neck and his arms encircled her waist. He was holding on so tight. Almost to the point of pain as he was fighting not to start sobbing.

She whispered gentle shushes in his ear and he squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

"Well isn't this cute." The voice sent a new wave of rage through Sylar and he slowly lifted his head.

"I'm going to kill you." Sylar glared, never letting go of Claire.

Mack chuckled and shook his head disappointedly, "It's funny how the legend is so much more than the man." He sighed.

"Once I find you-"

"Oh relax, Sylar." Mack's face turned into one of excitement, "I'm just getting started!" He laughed.

"Why are you doing this?" Claire asked, almost to the point of tears herself after seeing the hurt and pain in Sylar.

"Why?" He pointed his ear to the air and seemed to think, "Well, I don't know… maybe it's because you people tried to kill me the first time we met," He shrugged his shoulders, "This is just a little payback."

"You _killed _four of our people!" Claire said, getting angry. She released herself from Sylar and took a step towards the man.

Mack sighed solemnly and nodded looking at the floor, "It was me or them."

"You're a liar." Claire's glare made him laugh.

"I've heard about you you know. Claire Bennet. Daughter of Noah Bennet," Mack said nonchalantly and Claire made a confused face, "Rapid Cellular Regeneration," He nodded towards her, "Sorry about shooting you by the way, but I had to be sure it was you. You know how it goes...You know what, Claire? I like you," He said, "That's why I'm going to make you an offer."

The room was silent and Claire looked nervously from side to side and gripped Sylar's hand tighter from where she stood in front of him, "What offer?"

He breathed in deeply, "I want you to stay here with me. Leave your old crumby life behind that was full of lies, deceit, serial killers," He looked pointedly at Sylar, "And stay with me." His face was serious for the first time since they met.

Claire's face broke out into a small smile…then a bigger one…then she started laughing.

"You can't be serious." She said.

"Oh, but I am." Mack's face was still the same serious one as before.

Claire face soon mimicked his, "Oh my God…you _are _serious…" She looked at him disbelievingly, "What on earth would make you think I would go anywhere with you?" She furrowed her eyebrows at him.

His face held a hurt expression for a fraction of a second then he swallowed and said, "I'll tell you what. I'll give you a few days to think about it. And when you're ready to decide," His body wavered, "Just say my name." And he disappeared.

Claire and Sylar continued to stare at the spot Mack had been standing in.

"He's crazy." Sylar commented. After that, the lights went out. "Oh come on!"

They both struggled to see anything, even each other.

"C'mon." Claire still held Sylar's hand and she led him in a direction even she didn't know.

Neither said anything as they walked, afraid of the conversation becoming awkward.

Claire's arm waved in front of her in case she was about to walk into something. Unfortunately, she wasn't waving her legs around either and she tripped full force over something knee-high.

The pace they were going forced Sylar to land on top of Claire on something soft. Sylar rolled off her and began searching around with his hands, as did she.

"A bed?" Sylar suggested.

"Yeah, I think so." Claire furrowed her eyebrows, "Why would he give us a bed?" She tried to make the 'us' in that sentence sound as nonchalant as she could.

"I have no idea." Sylar said back to her. He had noticed her forced casualness but decided to ignore it for her sake.

Sylar remembered something. He fished around in his pocket for his phone, finding it, he pulled it out and unlocked it and shone it in front of them acting as a light.

"Oh, you couldn't think of that before?" Claire asked with a roll of her eyes.

"Couldn't you?" Sylar countered and smiled at her second eye roll.

The bed they were sitting on was probably a king-size. It's blanket cover a pale white with purple lining. The room it was in was like any other bedroom, bedside tables on either side, a vanity and mirror on the adjacent wall. It looked normal.

"Wow…" Claire mused.

"Yeah. What the hell is he getting at?" Sylar wondered.

Claire clapped her hands together once, "Well! He gave us a bed; we might as well use it!" She said and began crawling her way towards the pillows.

Sylar's eyebrows furrowed, "Really?"

"I'm tired." Claire justified and crawled under the covers.

Sylar shut his phone off and stood beside the bed then began walking around to the other side.

He cleared his throat and heard Claire's head move to look in his direction, "What?"

"Which blanket do I take?"

She snorted, "Please. I think we're way past that stage by now." She said and moved a little to get re-comfortable.

"True." He said and removed his jacket and shoes. Had Claire taken off her shoes? She would have. He was just nervous. Now he _knew _she was turning him into a schoolboy.

He cautiously lifted the covers and slipped in, way over the other side.

Claire turned her head to look at him but said nothing. If he didn't want to tonight, then she wouldn't push him, and if he did, she wouldn't push him away.

Sylar lay on his back looking up at the ceiling with an arm draped over the top of his head. The events of today…would change everything. His defences had crumbled in front of Claire when he caught sight of his mother. When he cried. When he hurt. When she comforted him and when they hugged.

After all he had done to her…she still didn't push him away. Sure, she did in the past at the beginning. But now? What was she doing? What did she think?

All of these questions ran through his mind as well as the image if his mother's walking corpse. The mother he killed. Because it was an accident doesn't excuse the crime…or did it?

He was on the brink of tears again.

'_Great.' _He thought. He took a deep breath to compose himself and forced his mind to think about something else. His mind instantly wandered to Mack's deal for Claire. There was no way in hell she would take it though. But what if she had to choose between him and Mack? Claire's history with him hadn't been pretty up until a few months ago. Why should she choose him? It's not like he could offer her anything… Sure he would love her unconditionally and die for her, but what could he offer her practically? He had his alchemy ability that could buy her everything she wanted, but would she take it knowing where it came from? And he was broken. He was hurt and guilty and sad beyond belief. Is that what she would want?

As if answering his racing questions, Claire made sure he felt her coming as she roughly shuffled across the bed to lay with him.

She gently placed her head on his waiting chest and wrapped her arm around his stomach. His body reacted without thinking; he pulled her body closer and enclosed her within his arms. He turned on his side and nuzzled her hair. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if he was just her comforter, her blanket. Her warm body when it was cold and her rock when things got hard. He didn't care either way. It's not like he deserved her affection, he didn't deserve _anything _from her.

Both of their bodies were sweating from the heat they created between them, but they didn't care. The only other people that were there for them, that would protect them, hold them, was laying with them. All they had was each other.

Claire had seen Sylar's face. Seen the hurt, the pain. She had seen the way his being crumbled when he was full of remorse. She decided then he had changed. Just like Peter told her those many times. The old Sylar probably wasn't even capable of remorse. But this one, her one, was so filled with it, he could hardly contain it. And she be damned if she wasn't there the catch him when he falls. She promises herself to learn to trust him.

"Sylar?" She turned her head upwards, "Are you awake?"

"Yeah." Came his whispered response.

"Can I tell you something…?" She bit her bottom lip.

He turned his head downwards and stared wonderingly although he couldn't see, "Anything."

Her heart warmed as he said it, "I want you to know that I know…" It didn't make sense and she knew it, but she didn't know another way to say it.

He smiled affectionately at her, "You know what?"

"I know that you've changed. And I know that it mustn't of been easy for you, but you did it." Her breath shook as she spoke, "And that I forgive you…"

His heart almost leaped out of his chest, he squeezed his eyes shut and held her tighter, as tight as he possibly could, "Thank you." He whispered breathlessly and pressed his lips to her forehead, "I know I don't deserve it…"

"You earned it."

Their eyes had adjusted a bit and they could now see what was immediately in front of them, which was each other. Their eyes searched one another's for reassurance and hesitancy.

Claire lifted her hand to place it on the side of Sylar's face, caressing his cheek and stubble. She moved her body up a bit and shifted closer till they were nearly touching where it mattered. Her eyes left his to look at his lips and her fingers gently brushed over them. His face leaning into her touch and kissing her fingertips as she touched his lips.

She grabbed under his chin with one hand and crushed her lips to his. They both inhaled at the feeling. Not only the physical feeling, but more than that. The comfort of home. They're lips moved together perfectly, like they had practiced this a hundred times.

Arms wrapping round one another and constant caressing, they deepened the kiss that was long overdue, but taken at the perfect time according to both of them. Tongues dancing, hands roaming…nothing could break this moment.

They broke the kiss when they realised their lungs were screaming for air but couldn't hear them over the screaming of their hearts.

They rested against one another, breathing heavily. Sylar's breathing slowed and he sighed, content with just laying there with Claire and cherishing this moment that was certainly going to meet it's end. But Claire wanted more, she starting kissing him again and again.

He laughed, "Claire…" He smiled in their kiss.

She shook her head and made a noise to show she disagrees with what he's about to say as her hands roamed over his chest and kissed him deeper, which made him laugh more.

"Claire…" He took her head between his hands and looked into her glazed eyes.

"Why not?" She whispered breathlessly against his lips then kissed them again.

His body was having the expected reaction but he couldn't…not here…not now, "Because you don't know what you're asking." He placed a gentle, sweet, soft kiss on her lips.

"And what if I do?" Her hands moved over his chest, his stomach, his neck.

He smiled at her and moved his thumb gently over her cheek. His hand roamed down her back, over her butt and hooked around her knee, from there he lifted it and swung her leg over his hip. He looked into her eyes, "Are you telling me you're ready for _this_?" He asked seriously.

Her one second of hesitancy before she said "Yes" was what made him stop.

He smiled at her and he released her leg and let it fall beside him. He kissed her one more time and flipped her over, her back now facing him. From there he wrapped his arm around her waist and she let him spoon her. He buried his face into the side of her neck

"You're not." He whispered into her ear which sent a shiver down her spine.

She smiled to herself and grabbed his hand that was resting on her stomach and intertwined their fingers.

What he didn't know is he was wrong. She was ready…for him, only him. She had absolutely no experience with anything like this but…when she said the words she had wanted to say to him for a while now…she felt a release. A surrendering. And she meant every word. She did know he had changed, she did see he tried and succeeded…she did forgive him.

**

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**

Omgomgomgogmogm don't be maaaaaad this came in this chapter :D :D but I'm saving the best for the later chappys! I was actually going to chop this chapter in half… but was certain you'd all chase me with ice cubes :S and I don't want that so :D

**+ to all of you who have stuck it out since chapter one! (which was annoyingly short I know lol) thankyou sooooooooooo much :D your encouraging words have really kept me writing! … and made my fingers hurt… :D but I love you anyway.**

**P.S...I WROTE AND POSTED TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY! STEPHANIE MEYER EAT YOUR HEART OUT!**


	10. Chapter 10

**i laah you :)**

* * *

Noah Bennet was going out of his mind. Actually, no, he'd gone out of his mind around four o'clock yesterday…three days after Sylar and Claire were meant to be back from their mission. Maybe they weren't ready for the Company's most wanted. Maybe Mack and his twisted mind had twisted theirs too and they had no way of coming back.

He gulped at the thought of his Claire being trapped in one of his illusions till Mack's time runs out. Which he hopes is very, _very _soon.

Noah ducked his head out of his office and spoke to his assistant, "Christine, any news on their GPS?"

Christine instantly looked alive and began hitting keys like that were a mission in itself, she slumped in her chair after a few seconds of typing, "No. Sorry sir."

Noah face dropped further than it already was. "Thank you, Christine." He said to her and retreated back into his office.

Surely Sylar was able to take this guy. It was _Sylar _for crying out loud. Sure Mack could get into his head, but the evaluation tests from multiple psychiatrists that he was ordered to go see and also Matt had deemed Sylar mentally stable and..._fixed_.

Noah knew Sylar would protect Claire with his life, because he knows if he didn't, Noah would find a way to end his.

* * *

Sylar was the first to wake. His eyes burning at the exhaustion still left over from the physically and emotionally draining turmoil of yesterday. The pain he felt yesterday…was almost comparable to the guilt he felt whenever he looked Claire in the eyes, looked Peter in the eyes, Mohinder, Parkman, all of them. Knowing their suffering was because of him.

He remembered who he went to bed with last night and smiled at the memory. Squeezing the woman in his arms tighter, she stirred next to him.

He almost laughed at the situation again repeating itself, "Claire." He whispered in her ear.

She didn't so much as stir, which was strange.

"Claire, wake up."

But she continued to sleep peacefully. He furrowed his brows.

"How did you sleep?" His voice said from the foot of the bed.

Sylar jumped and moved his body away from Mack, his arm instantly going across Claire's body to act as a pathetic excuse for a shield.

"What are you doing here?" Sylar asked, heart still beating from the freight.

Mack looked at Sylar confusedly, "Well…I live here." He glanced around the room.

"You know what I mean." Sylar said through clenched jaws.

Mack stared for a second then laughed, "You're quite a character you know that…"

"Thank you for noticing," Sylar replied sarcastically, "Let us out of here."

"Us? Who's us?" Mack asked condescendingly.

Sylar gave him a questioning look, "What do you mean who? Me and Claire."

Mack's eyes briefly wandered to the sleeping girl next to Sylar.

Mack shook his head and looked into the air, "So stupid."

"What?" Sylar looked confused with his eyebrows still furrowed.

"Don't even know who you go to bed with…" He eyes flicked to the girl followed by Sylar's.

"Claire?" Sylar went to shake her shoulder, but when he made contact with her body, his hand fell straight through her, Sylar turned back to Mack with murder in his eyes, "You son of a bitch, where is she?"

Mack chuckled in his butler's suit, "You _actually _think _Claire _would let you touch her like that?"

Sylar's jaw clenched, "Where is she?"

"Somewhere safe."

"How did you get her?"

"You don't even know whose hand you grab in the dark do you?" Mack asked like he did it on a regular basis.

Ofcourse, when the lights went out, "Why did you do this?"

Mack's face went serious and he placed his hands on the bed frame and leaned forward, "To show you what you'll _never _have."

He wavered and disappeared, as did Claire's copy did beside him.

"Crap." He said, panicked as hell.

* * *

Claire's vision remained blank as she mindlessly searched around the dark for…anything really.

"Sylar?" She spoke his name for what seemed like the thousandth time. And again, getting no reply.

She was just about to yell and scream her head off for the third time since she's been here when she heard something. A peculiar sound, kind of like rats scurrying across the marble floor.

She furrowed her brows and listened intently, like it was some big clue or puzzle she was meant to figure out.

The scurrying got closer and closer with every second. She looked down but still couldn't see due to the pitch darkness. Her heart stopped the same time it stopped right in front of her.

Small, high-pitched barks came from a spot in front of her.

"…Mr Muggles?"

The small dog barked as though it recognised his name and her voice.

It's barking didn't stop and she could hear him start to move again, move away from her. Her heart restarted as did her mind and she struggled to keep up with him as well as determine his direction.

"Mr Muggles, wait up!" She said, frustrated when she could hardly hear his tiny footsteps over her own.

But there was no reply. No little barks, no near-silent footsteps. Nothing.

"Great." She sighed.

However, it appears her venturing hadn't been in vain. She could see a small ray of light, creeping from behind a corner. She could've jumped with joy, or squealed with delight. But decided to run faster than Usain Bolt towards the promising light.

She turned the corner the light was hiding behind and saw a door illuminating a narrow hallway at the end. Claire smiled and ran towards it.

She slowed her pace and peeked through the open door. It was a house. A normal one, unlike the grand mansion Mack had toyed with them in.

She looked around awkwardly at it. The only place she could see of this normal suburban home was the foyer, staircase, living room and an opening in the living room wall probably leading to the kitchen.

She slowly stepped onto the dark-stained wooden floors of the foyer. The double ceiling providing no sense of privacy as she stepped to her left and passed through into the brown-themed cosy living room.

"Hello?" She said far too quietly for anyone to hear.

She continued on her way past the living room and into the modern yet homey kitchen. It's white marble counter tops reminding her of the floors of her previous place of dwelling. The island in the centre with the only space of counter that had a butcher-block top instead of the white marble. Various ornaments and utensils making the home look lived in.

"Hello?" She said a little louder.

* * *

Sylar continued to sit on the bed even after Mack and 'Claire' had gone. Now feeling incredibly alone like he had in his previous life and even more so than his new one.

He could not get last night out of his head.

That wasn't her. Hadn't been her that whole time since the lights went out. He thought he had achieved something with Claire. She said she had forgiven him, trusted him. Maybe Mack was right…maybe he wouldn't ever have that. He knew it was too good to be true. He didn't deserve it.

He was so embarrassed, he was so hurt, and he was so disheartened. He could still hear her voice. He slammed his hands against his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. But he could still hear her. Her light footsteps, her nervous voice.

He briefly considered if they weren't his mind playing tricks on him. He listened more intently and tilted his ear towards the open door of the bedroom.

"Hello?" He heard faintly.

His eyes widened and he jumped out of bed, getting tangled and struggling the whole way. He shoved his feet in his shoes and put his jacket on. He dashed down the stairs and looked at the normal looking house. Well this was different…a downgrade for Mack if you asked him.

"Claire?" He asked loudly before he was even finished with the stairs.

He swung around the banister, holding it for support and passed through a nicely decorated living room and into the kitchen.

"Sylar!" Claire said from behind him. She had circled the downstairs when she heard his voice. She was so elated to see him! She didn't know what the hell was going on. She began to run towards him when he held up a hand to stop her.

"Wait." He eyed her suspiciously, "How do I know you're the real Claire?" He wasn't going to take any chances anymore.

Claire's eyes went from side to side, "Umm…" Her eyes narrowed as well, "Well, how do I know you're the real Sylar?"

They continued to stare at each other like that, sussing each other out.

"Say something only I would know." Claire challenged.

Sylar thought about this for a minute, he decided to humour her and formed a big grin on his face, "When we were in the motel room-"

"Ok! Ok!" She interrupted, "I believe you!"

He laughed and came towards her, he grasped her upper arms and looked into her eyes, "Are you ok?"

"Yeah."

He sighed, "Good. Now how do we get in contact with your father?"

"Umm.." She looked around, maybe for another Mr Muggles, another clue.

Her eyes landed on the home phone. She looked at Sylar pointedly and moved towards it. She hesitantly picked it up and pressed it to her ear.

She typed in her father's memorised cell number. It rang. She looked shocked at Sylar and he raised his brows questioningly.

It rang and rang. She sighed in defeat and was just about to hang up when, "Hello?" Came from the other end.

It wasn't her father's voice, "…Mom?" Claire was extremely confused.

"Oh! Claire! I know you're probably wondering where we are!" Her mother started in a rush, "But you know how your father is, always taking wrong turns then never asking for directions." Her mother laughed into the phone and heard her father in the background disagree.

Claire was about to say something that involved a question and a curse word when her mother started rattling off about their delayed arrival to the new place for Easter break or something like that. Claire couldn't concentrate anymore.

Meanwhile, Sylar was going out of his mind trying to figure out what Claire was hearing on the other side. Had she gotten through?

"Claire!" Sylar whispered to get her attention, but all he got in response was Claire's finger telling him to be quiet.

"Anyway, Virginia called me and told me she would be arriving after us even though _we_ were the ones that got lost because her flight was cancelled and she had to get a later one. Oh! Claire honey I have to go, I just saw I sign that your father missed again." She spoke half, cut-off goodbyes then the line went dead.

"Wow." Was all Claire got out as she stared at the phone.

"What?" Sylar tried to sound comforting and calm, but his voice portrayed hints of anxiety.

"Um, that was my Mom…and she's coming here with my Dad…and she mentioned a woman named Virginia."

Sylar perked up at the unfamiliar name to Claire.

"You know a Virginia?" Claire asked.

"Yeah," He looked down pensively, "That's my Mom's name."

"Oh…" Claire averted her eyes from Sylar's face, "Well apparently she's coming too."

Sylar's head snapped up, "What?"

"Hey, I'm just saying what I heard." Claire said, palms up.

Sylar looked around nervously, "Well…when?"

"I have no idea. She wasn't that clear at all," Eye roll, "But she did say she was coming here to check out _our new place._" Claire watched the realisation dawn on Sylar's face.

"Oh…" Sylar drawled out.

"Yeah…" Claire said back, hardly attached to the conversation they were failing to have.

**

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:) sooo I kinda sorta but not really tricked you :) many many of you had your suspicions that it wasn't the real Claire! kudos to you my lovlies! :)

**Stay tuuuuuuuuuuned :D**


	11. Chapter 11

***sigh* my mum wouldn't let me go out tonight because I went out last night and she's quite mad at me after she found out where I went so instead of sneaking out and giving her a heart attack…I'm writing you guys another chapter :) bask in my niceness.**

**:D**

**OMG! GUYS! SIR STUD MUFFIN REVIEWED MY STORY! :| so nervous now. He/she wrote my favourite story, it's called 'My Hero' and I'm pretty sure you should go check it out :D**

* * *

"Calm down, Noah." Angela Petrelli said from the chair opposite Noah's desk. She was sitting with perfect posture in her black business woman's suit with a calm expression plastered on her face.

"Calm…_down?_" Noah whirled on Angela from pacing behind his desk, "That's my _daughter_!"

Angela brushed a pretend piece of flint from her shoulder, "Noah, if you speak to me like that I'll just have to conduct my own investigation to get Claire back." She threatened.

"Angela, we have to work together-"

"Yes, Noah, I agree. But you going insane will not help us get anywhere." Her eyes never blinked as she stared Noah down.

He sighed, "Have you had any dreams?"

She smiled; satisfied with herself for a second... then her smile disappeared, "No."

"We have to get Peter and Matt and even Mohinder involved!" Noah suggested to her for the hundredth time.

And like all those other times, her answer was the same, "No, Noah. It's no use getting Peter or anyone stressing over this situation. And you know what Mohinder gets like when he's stressed…" She made a sound in the back of her throat and waved her hand dismissively.

"Well what are we going to do?" Noah yelled and ran his hands through his hair and fidgeted with his glasses, anything to keep his hands preoccupied from grabbing his gun and shooting someone...

Angela was going to ignore his tone, "Claire is strong. You know she won't let anyone get the best of her, and even better than that, she's got Sylar protecting her. Who is stronger than Claire and probably stronger than Mack," Her eyes softened, "The reason I am so calm about this is because I have a lot more confidence in her – in _both _of them – than you do. They're adults now, Noah. They can take care of themselves."

But Noah Bennet wasn't buying anything she was saying. And deep down, he knew she didn't buy it either and was going just as crazy as him.

* * *

The only sound in the room was the ticking of the analog clock hanging on the wall beside the fireplace (which was 4.12 seconds fast noticed Sylar).

"So…" Claire drawled the word out to waste more time.

"So…" Sylar offered back.

After the phone conversation, there wasn't really much of anything to do. Ok, so this was _their _house and all but this is the first time they've ever been in it. So now, sitting on the comfortable brown sofas facing the fireplace…they had nothing to say.

Claire thought of something when the silence was becoming too deafening, "So what happened to you when we were separated?" She asked innocently.

Sylar's eyes snapped up while his head stayed drooped, "Umm…you know…nothing important…probably the same as you…" He didn't look at her but tried to play off her question the best he could.

Claire raised her eyebrows disbelievingly, "Really? Nothing happened?"

Sylar looked at her now and nodded his head innocently and confirmed her question with a 'Mhm' affirmation.

Claire snorted at the idea of Sylar chasing round after a fluffy Pomeranian in pitch darkness.

"What did you do?" He asked to get the spotlight off himself.

"Well," Claire was going to be more open than him, "When the lights went out I couldn't see absolutely anything," She crossed her legs on the couch and turned her body to face him, "And I was calling your name for hours but no one replied so I was scared, alone and in a dark room with a creep being able to pop up when he pleases." She paused for Sylar's chuckle before she continued, "And then, it was the strangest thing…" She wondered if he would believe her with how ridiculous it sounded being spoken out loud, "I saw my dog…"

Sylar raised his eyebrows, "You…saw your… _dog_?"

"Yeah. And I followed him…into the…light." Wow, she did sound crazy.

Sylar paused before he burst out laughing, falling back on the couch and holding his stomach.

"Fine," She crossed her arms and faced forward, "Don't believe me."

"I do believe you!" Sylar laughed then wiped the tears from his eyes and coughed the rest of his laughter out, "It's just…what the hell is this guy doing? And how hell does he know about Mr Muggles?"

Claire had never wondered this before, "I have no idea."

Sylar was just about to resume their conversation when three hard knocks came from the front door.

Sylar looked down at his watch and then looked at Claire, confused, "They're early."

Both of them got up off the couch and walked the distance to the front door.

"Ready?" Claire asked Sylar, her hands already starting to sweat.

Sylar gave her his signature smirk, "I was born ready, baby." And with that he wrenched the door open.

Claire had a smile on her face from his answer when the door was opened. But it instantly dropped.

"I've decided I've been a bit cruel to you two." The ever-loved Mack said from the front porch.

"What do you want?" Sylar asked with force.

"…May I come in atleast?" He waited for their invitation.

"It's your house. Do whatever you want." Claire spoke with annoyance and anger.

Mack smiled at her feistiness and chuckled, "No, Claire," He pointed at them both "It's _your _house."

"...Why the hell would you give us a house?" Sylar _really _wanted to put a swear word in the sentence.

"I will explain everything once we get inside and get comfortable." Said Mack.

"Fine." Claire decided for the both of them and moved Sylar out of the way with her body so the man could get through.

Mack made a sound of approval, "Hm! I like what you've done with the place." He said as he stepped in.

Both Sylar and Claire rolled their eyes.

Claire moved forward in front of them and plastered a smile on for him, "Please, sit down." She motioned towards the couch her and Sylar had been sitting on moments ago.

"Why, thank you." Mack looked Claire up and down before sitting down on the couch.

Sylar rolled his eyes and sat on the single chair to the left of Mack, since he didn't want to sit next to his new enemy. Claire wandered over to him and sat on the arm of the chair, her hand keeping her balance with it resting on the back of the seat behind Sylar's head. She didn't want to sit next to Mack either.

"Ok, so the reason I popped in today was to talk, not to fight." Mack clasped his hands together and leaned forward.

"Because you know you'd lose." Sylar mumbled.

The others pretended like they didn't hear him, "You want to talk? Ok, let's start by you explaining how the hell you know so much about us then, hm?" Claire's eyes penetrating his with her accusing stare.

This didn't affect Mack the way Claire had hoped, "I presume your father told you about those two teams in 07?"

"…Yeah…" Claire answered cautiously.

"Well, did he tell you about the team in 09?" Mack formed a small, smug smile.

The only answer he got was the two confused looks of Sylar and Claire. They shared a brief look with each other before looking back at Mack.

"Ofcourse he didn't…" Mack said mostly to himself, "Because it was his fault."

"What was his fault?" Claire asked the question they were both wondering.

Mack cleared his throat for this story, "Well, let me begin by saying congratulations to you Sylar for being 'the one who got away'," He chuckled at his lame phrase.

"Oh, trust me, Bennet caught me plenty of times." Sylar countered, and in a way, defended Noah's reputation.

"Yet here you are. You got away." Mack smiled at the young man as though he were proud.

Sylar looked from side to side nervously and swallowed for his dry throat, "So, what's your point?"

Mack relaxed, "Nothing. That's not my point. My point is I want to give you a fair chance."

"…A fair chance at what?" Claire asked.

Mack turned his gaze up at her, looking unimpressed, "Claire, honey, the men are speaking." And he turned back to Sylar.

Claire formed a shocked look on her face and was extremely offended. Sylar was also shocked but didn't know what to say or do.

Claire snapped out of her shock first, "So what if you _men _are speaking? I have every right to talk whenever I want to! Just because you're keeping us here-"

"_CLAIRE!" _Mack roared with anger. But straight after he took a breath and composed himself, he sent her a smile, "Claire, please. Know your place." He looked threateningly at her covered with a smile.

Mack looked back at Sylar and opened his mouth. Though he didn't get far. As soon as he opened his mouth to speak, his head twisted all the way around with a sickening series of cracks.

Claire gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. She looked down at Sylar and he looked up innocently at her.

"Sorry I didn't say anything for you." He said below his voice sweetly.

"It's ok." She forced a quick smile at him before her gaze turned back to the body lying limp on the couch. Sylar could act as tough as he wanted, but she knew below all that…was a giant teddy bear. She brought her hand up and played with the short, soft hair on the back of his head for a moment before resting it on his shoulder when the body on the couch wavered and disappeared.

"That wasn't very nice, Sylar." Mack said unoffended as he walked through front door and sat where his dead body had been.

"Well, watch what you say next time." Sylar glared at the man.

Mack laughed at this, "I will." He sent Claire a wink which Sylar clenched his jaw at.

"So, what are you giving me a fair chance at?" Sylar re-asked Claire's unanswered question for her.

"To win Claire over." Mack answered seriously.

Sylar snorted and looked amusedly at Mack, "This just keeps getting better and better."

"Or worse and worse." Claire said below her breath.

"You two are wrong for each other." Mack said, looking solely at Sylar.

Sylar looked from side to side confused, "Ooohkaaay. What's your point?"

"And how do you know anything about us anyway?" Claire spoke up.

Mack looked at her then Sylar, "Did you two know anyone by the name of Andrew Freedmen?"

Sylar and Claire shared a glance, "No." They said in unison.

"Remember I was telling you about another team I…dismembered in 09?" Mack asked and looked proud of himself for it.

"Yeah, what about it?" Sylar asked.

"Bennet got them killed." He answered like it was no big deal.

"_What_?" Claire asked, very interested in what he was about to say next.

"I gave him an ultimatum, you see. My freedom, or their lives," He smiled at Claire, "I think you can figure out which option he chose."

"That was his job. His objective was to detain you and let nothing get in the way. He was just following orders." Sylar defended Noah yet again.

Mack perked up, "Ah, so you do know the case?"

"No. It's also what we were ordered to do. Wasn't that hard to guess." Sylar glared at him.

"So, who is Andrew Freedmen?" Claire asked.

"The Company's policy of 'one of us, one of them' is very sensible once you think about it." Mack looked into the air almost with pride, "Andrew was the 'one of them'…or I could say he was 'one of us'." He laughed at his joke. The two didn't.

"So you've actually killed _three _teams?... Why didn't my dad tell us any of this?" Claire asked and wondered.

"Exactly." Mack narrowed his eyes and clasped his hands in front of him.

"So, what's the significance of this Andrew guy?" Sylar asked to get the attention away from Noah's habitual deceitfulness.

"You asked me before how I knew so much about you. Well, Andrew is my answer…well _has _the answers you might say." He chuckled again at his consistent lame jokes.

"Ok then, which brings me to my next question. How does Andrew know so much about us?" Sylar asked, still mildly confused.

"It's his power to know about people," His eyes wandered for a second, "Well, not know about people _perse _but..."

"What's his power then?" Claire asked.

"He can tap into and show others the events of someone's life. Not necessarily memories, just events. Some even you didn't know happened to you such as being carried in by your parents from the car when you were a child after a long trip then waking up in your bed without knowing how you even got there." Mack answered and allowed time for the others to let it sink in.

"But Andrew Freedmen has never even seen either of us. _We _haven't even heard from the guy or know him." Claire said.

Mack waved her off dismissively, "He doesn't need to know you, honey. All he needs is a name matched to a face and he's off!" Mack laughed loudly at this.

"Then how did you know us _three _years ago?" Sylar asked, an obvious hole in his story.

"I didn't." Mack answered simply.

Both were silent and didn't say anything. Did he understand the question?

Mack realised what Sylar was trying to ask and slapped his knee and laughed, "Andrew's not dead!" And he laughed some more.

"Then where is he?" Claire asked, now afraid for the man's wellbeing.

"He's somewhere safe. With his family." Mack nodded before correcting himself, "Well, the family that I gave to him."

"You mean to tell me he's been stuck in your twisted game world for _three years?_" Claire shouted across the room.

"Oh please, Claire," Mack flicked his wrist at her, "It's _much _better than the life he had before. And it takes up hardly any of my energy since you're now living in his world and I don't have to create a whole separate place for everyone to live this apple pie lifestyle." He chuckled.

"…And he's ok with that?" Claire asked disbelievingly.

Mack smacked his lips, "Of_course _he is. I pop in to his place every once in a while…we've become friends, him and I."

"Who the hell would want to be _your _friend?" Sylar asked before he could stop himself.

"You see, now _that's _my dilemma. Not many people want to be in my company. I'm sure you can relate, Sylar." Mack said and Sylar's jaw clenched, "I mean…you're a nice guy and everything but…people just don't want to be around you. Because of your past _mistakes_." He eyed Sylar, "_I _never meant to throw my boss off a tower just like you never meant to murder your mother-"

"Shut your mouth." Sylar said with hardly any force behind it.

"And you know it's partially your fault…you carry so much baggage with you, no one wants to help you carry it…and you don't feel you deserve anything other than the world to turn it's back on you… you're not even your own friend. Now is that because you're not making an effort? Or is it because you hate what you see in the mirror every day?-"

"_SHUT UP!" _Sylar yelled at the top of his lungs at Mack and catapulted himself out of his chair to stand over the small man.

Mack knew _just _where to hit Sylar. If he didn't have that Andrew guy, Mack would have no advantages whatsoever.

"Well, let me let you get back to your '_life'_," Mack stood and backed away from Sylar a bit and looked over at Claire, "Let me show you everything _he _can give you, then I'll show you what _I _can give you." Mack said before laughing as his form wavered then disappeared.

Sylar was panting and his heart going one hundred miles an hour. He couldn't face Claire or look her in the eye. The things that asshole said…he wasn't wrong…he was totally accurate.

"Sylar?" Claire asked tenderly from behind him. Afraid that he's already taken too much and was going find a way out of here without the weight of her dragging him down.

Sylar's quick head movement to the side showed he was listening but was too ashamed to face her.

"You know what he's like…don't listen to him." She moved closer to him and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder blade.

"I know." He said purely for her benefit. He couldn't let her know that he was crumbling.

She moved around him to face him, but he avoided her gaze with his head directed to the side, "Hey, look at me," He still wouldn't, "This is what he wants. He wants you to distance yourself so I choose him," Ok, _now _he looks, "Which won't happen by the way…But don't give him the satisfaction."

Sylar slowly nodded his head and looked away again. Man, he really needed a hug.

Claire forced Sylar to look at her by grabbing his chin. From there she formed a huge grin on her face while Sylar raised a questioning eyebrow, "So…are you ready to play house?" She giggled when she achieved a slight smile and a small laugh from her new roomie.

**

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Yaaaaaaaaaaay! :D

**Sooo mad at Mack right now \/ grrrrargh!**

**love you :D**


	12. Chapter 12

**Here…we…GO! :D**

* * *

After Mack's very unwelcome and confusing visit, the pair went back to the couch to wait for their other unwelcome visitors.

"So, Andrew Freedmen, huh?" Sylar said offhandedly, just wondering.

"Mmmhm." Claire replied.

"Wonder what his deal is…" Sylar looked into the air as though it had the answers.

"Mack is just manipulating the poor guy. He probably has no idea what's going on. For all we know he probably thinks he's back in reality with his real family…not Mack's twisted world." Claire said, staring at the unlit fireplace.

"…Or he does." Sylar turned his head when she turned hers to look at each other.

Claire shrugged, "Well, he's obviously a valuable asset to Mack and something has to be done." She would let him assume what he wanted from her sentence.

Did he hear right? Was this Claire talking? He furrowed his brows at her, "Something like what?" He didn't want to say what was swimming around in his mind, in case he was dead wrong.

"I think you can come up with something to do with him." Claire answered, no big deal.

"…Like kill the guy?" Sylar asked her carefully, worried he was wrong.

Claire sighed and drooped her head, "Worst case scenario…"

Ok, so he had heard right.

"But that's the absolute _last _option. We talk to him first and make him see eye to eye with us then…we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But first we have to find this guy…" Claire trailed off.

"Well, it shouldn't be too hard. I mean, the guy is in this world with us. Maybe it's as simple as picking up a phonebook." Sylar tried to sound optimistic.

Claire turned her deadpan face towards him with the hint of a smile formed on her lips, "When is anything ever that simple?"

Sylar laughed, "True."

* * *

Another half hour went by and still no visits from their parents.

Claire sighed; bored out of her mind watching Sylar sleep in the same position he was sitting in minutes before. She had briefly considered pulling a college prank on him. But that would mess up his shirt for the parentals. And she didn't want to look bad.

"I'll go make some ice tea…" She concluded and bounced off the couch with the intention of making the best darn ice tea anyone's ever tasted before. Only because she has the time and energy now.

Moving through the spacious kitchen, she approached the fridge and opened it. The double stainless-steel fridge was _packed _with everything! There was fruit, meat, a couple bottles of champagne. Claire didn't need to look far for the jug of freshly chilled water with ice. She pulled it out and walked over to the kettle, next to it being a small box of tea bags. She grabbed a few of those and began making the best ice tea anyone's ever drank before.

It didn't take her very long, surprisingly. Last time when she had made it with her mom it had taken her nearly over an hour!

She was just mixing the large jug when Sylar sauntered in, still looking a little sleepy after his nap.

She gave him no greeting, she was too excited! "Try this!" She poured her ice tea in a glass she found on one of the shelves and walked round the island to him.

He sat on one of the bar stools there and took the glass from her hands with a freaked look on his face. How enthusiastic can someone get over ice tea? He faced forward again and squinted his eyes as he took a sip.

Claire's smile never faltered, "So…what do you think?" She clasped her hands in front of her and smiled nervously at him.

He played with the flavour in his mouth a bit before making a face, "It's good." He said simply and took another sip.

Claire's face dropped, "It's _good_?" She asked.

Sylar nodded his head, "Mhm."

"So, it's not the bestest tasting ice tea you've ever tasted in your whole entire life?"

Sylar raised an eyebrow at her, "Umm…that was going to be my next comment."

Claire smiled wider and ran back around the kitchen island and grabbed another glass from the shelf behind her. She poured herself a glass and took a sip.

Her face contorted and she practically spit the vile liquid out, "Ugh! This is horrible!" She poured the rest of her glass down the sink. She turned back to Sylar, wiping her mouth with her sleeve, "I thought you said it was the bestest tasting ice tea you've ever tasted in your whole entire life!" She mimicked her previous assumption of her terrible-tasting ice tea.

Sylar smiled and put his glass down, "I was being nice." He looked at her.

"Well be more critical next time," She laughed, "It was horrible." She laughed again.

"Yeah, but I just wanted you to say it first." He laughed with her.

She disposed of the probably poisonous ice tea down the drain and rinsed the two cups and the jug. Sylar was watching her, the way she expertly cleaned the dishes like she wasn't a spoiled, blonde cheerleader. He smiled at the simplicity of this moment. He understood now why people just wanted a spouse, a home and a couple of kids maybe…it was all so simple compared to what his life was comprised of. His biggest worry was whether he wouldn't be able to control his devastating hunger instead of worrying if the mortgage rates are going to jump. Waking up next to a warm body instead of a cold motel room. Kissing your kids goodnight instead of being mugged in the car park of your own residence. It wasn't only a simple life; it was also one Sylar would trade his life for any day. He's had the glory, the recognition. And some part of him still wants that, still wants to be significant. But he has a feeling that if this life was laid out on a platter in front of him, he would most definitely eat it right up.

Through his few seconds of thoughts, Claire heard the doorbell shrill.

"Oh crap, they're here!" She panicked herself into getting a tea towel, quickly drying her hands and racing to the door. She looked back to see Sylar still sitting where he was.

"Psst! Sylar!" She whisper-screamed at him.

He turned around and slowly realised what was going on. He leapt off the stool and came to stand by Claire, his heart beating out of his chest.

"Ready?" Sylar asked.

Claire looked at the door, "No."

Sylar wrenched the door open to reveal Noah and Sandra Bennet.

Sandra squealed in delight at the sight of her daughter, "Claire!" She dumped her bags on the porch and threw herself inside and at her daughter.

Claire was surprised, "Oh! Hi Mom!" She hugged the woman back and went with the flow when Sandra started bouncing up and down, giggling. Just how long hadn't they seen each other in this life?

"Sylar." Noah Bennet's voice came from the open door, Sylar pulled his attention away from the girls to look at the man.

Noah Bennet smiled and stuck out his hand, "It's good to see you again, buddy."

Sylar's mouth was agape, but he recovered quickly, "Uh, Mr Bennet! …Sir, it's good to see you to." He offered and smiled nervously, stepping aside for the man to enter.

Sylar nodded typically at Bennet when he didn't bother to carry in the mountain of suitcases from the front porch. He just left them sitting there for Sylar to carry in…

"Dad!" Claire was really getting into this… She hugged her father tightly before hugging both of her parents.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Sylar! Forgot you were there." Sandra laughed and wandered over to him and gave him a hug, "It's been a long time." She finished in her southern accent.

"It has." He answered even though he didn't know exactly how long.

Noah and Sandra stood in the foyer of 'Sylar and Claire's house', they each looked around and above and everywhere, "Wooow. I like what you've done with the place." Noah turned and spoke to them before heading into the living room to inspect some more.

Sandra looked at the couple and rolled her eyes at her husband before following him into the living room.

Sylar and Claire continued to smile till they were both out of sight, then they turned to each other.

"Ok, so what is Mack going to do now?" Sylar whispered.

"I don't know. This is his stupid experiment for us." Claire eyes shifted to Sylar's.

"So, what? We should just play along?" Sylar asked, hardly wanting to do so.

Claire shrugged and nodded, "Yeah. Don't give him the satisfaction of kicking up a storm about this whole situation. Plus, we're stuck here anyway, so why not?" Claire's eyes seemed to shine.

Sylar sighed, he knew he didn't have it in him to refuse her, "Fine. But I have no idea what anything is in this world! I mean, what are _we_? Your dad doesn't hate me! I don't even know what I do for a living!" These questions only made themselves known after he accepted Mack's ridiculous challenge.

"I don't know either…" Claire pondered for a moment before her mother stuck her head around the corner.

"Claire, you don't mind if I pour your father and I a drink do you?" She asked.

"No! Ofcourse not, go ahead!" Claire found it weird her mother would even ask. Her _real _one wouldn't have bothered.

Claire was just about to tell Sylar not to worry so much because, even though everything _looks _real, it's not, when Claire's mother exclaimed from the other room, "Oh Claire and Sylar! This is _such _a nice picture!"

Sylar and Claire followed Sandra's voice into the living room; she was standing in front of the unlit fireplace, a rich mahogany picture frame in her hands.

The couple came to her shoulder and looked into the picture that was apparently 'such a nice picture'. And it was. It was a very nice picture. Of a couple standing together in wedding attire, holding each other and smiling at the camera.

"Um, yeah," Claire's head still wasn't around at the moment, "That was…that was our wedding day…" The words felt unreal escaping from her mouth.

Sandra rolled her eyes at her daughter, "Well I know that! I was there, silly!" Sandra sighed and held the picture to her chest, "I still can't believe it's been three years…I remember the ceremony like it was yesterday. Your father all teary eyed as he handed you over, that beautiful dress that was a gift from Angela…" She sighed again.

Sylar and Claire stood still, mouths agape at the recount of _their _wedding day. Maybe playing along with this game wasn't such a good idea…What's next? They had _kids_? Oh god, they hoped not.

"So!" Noah Bennet called as he walked in from the kitchen, "What have you two been up to? How's work Sylar?" The man smiled.

Sylar was still partially shocked by the fact that he and Claire were fake married.

"Sylar?" Noah moved forward and clapped a hand on the younger man's back. That woke him up.

"Huh?" Sylar said intelligently.

"I asked you how work was going? You're providing for my little girl I hope." He smiled though Sylar could see it wasn't a joke.

"Uh, yes sir. Ofcourse. Work has been…slow…?" He made it sound like a question, he didn't even know what his freakin job was!

"Ah, that's alright. It'll pick up, always does." Noah said almost dismissively.

Sylar could only nod. This day was just too weird. He was still waiting for the ever-loving Noah Bennet to whip out a gun for ever getting his precious Claire-Bear into this mess in the first place. Even though it wasn't his fault, everything was.

"So, what's for dinner?" Noah asked after some silence.

"Um, well…" Claire started but couldn't think of anything to say.

"We were thinking about ordering in Chinese." Sylar suggested, "If that's OK with you." He added afterwards.

"Sounds good to me." Sandra nodded and carefully placed the frame back onto the mantelpiece.

* * *

The four had ordered from the Chinese shop around five o'clock and finished about an hour later, during which not much talking was done. Sylar and Claire, after all, had no idea what lives they were living here.

"The trip down here went well then?" Claire smiled as she asked, tired of the silence. This was her idea of following along and she was going to show Sylar just how wrong he was when he said it was a bad idea.

"The flight was excellent, darling. Though I wish you had've told us you bought _first class _tickets! Now that was a bit of a surprise." Sandra laughed as she spoke.

"Well, in your letter, you did say you had a bit of a surprise for us. After all, we haven't seen you since your honeymoon was over!" Noah laughed.

Sylar and Claire both laughed nervously. Yeah, honeymoon…right.

"I'm glad to hear you two finally shut up about Hawaii!" Noah laughed at his joke and Sandra hit him playfully on the arm.

"They were practically kids when they went! Claire had never even been on a plane before then!" Sandra said.

"It was…nice." Sylar said to both of them. Having no memories of the 'honeymoon'.

"Yeah, it was warm." Claire said. They were both sticking to the safe options of answers and questions.

"You're going to _have _to show me that photo album you put together again, Claire!" Sandra's eyes lit up.

"…Photo album?" Claire asked apprehensively.

"Another time Sandra. We're all tired. Claire why don't you show us were this guest bedroom of yours is?" Dad said and began getting off the couch.

"Oh, um, sure." She had no clue which bedroom was the guest one!

Claire was getting off the couch when Sylar grabbed her arm and leaned her down to whisper in her ear, "The master is the one at the end of the hall on the right." He said quickly and let go.

Claire gave him a confused look and he returned it with a look that said 'I'll tell you later'.

Claire got off the couch and led them upstairs, carrying two of their three suitcases. Her eyes quickly darted around for an open door, but they were all closed. She sighed, she was going to have to do this the hard way.

She approached and opened the first door on the left, "So this is the…closet." She shut the door and went to the next one, "And this is…the bathroom, for when you…need to use…the…bathroom." She finished clearing her throat and moved to a door on the other side of the wide hall, "This is the spare bedroom you'll be staying in!" She was just glad she found it before the real awkwardness started to settle in.

She walked into the white and blue themed bedroom and placed the suitcases at the foot of the bed.

"Nice decorating!" Sandra exclaimed and looked into the ensuite.

Well, guess they didn't need that bathroom, "Thank you." She said politely.

Her father walked up to her and gave her a big bear hug. "I'm happy for you Claire. Even though I was a bit," He made a silly face, "about Sylar in the beginning. I'm glad he can stay with you even after we're all gone." He finished emotionally.

So they _did _know about abilities in this world. Even though she couldn't imagine her father without such knowledge in _any _lifetime, it was comforting to know something had stayed the same.

"Thanks, Dad." She said and bid them goodnight.

She quietly shut the door and breathed in relief. Making her way back to the top of the stairs, she noticed none of the lights were on downstairs. She furrowed her brows and turned towards her and Sylar's bedroom. She walked down the hall and entered.

"Sylar?" She called when she couldn't see anyone.

"Yeah." He replied from what she presumed was a wardrobe.

"What are you doing?" She asked, walking round to him and stopping just short of entering the wardrobe.

"Looking for something to wear to bed," He said while rummaging through draws, "You probably should too."

"Yeah." She agreed. She walked around to the other side of the bed and to the wardrobe that lined the wall there. Atleast she still had her own wardrobe. She opened it and smiled at the amount of clothes, shoes and accessories in there. If Mack were here, she'd probably thank him.

She poked through her draws and came out with some pyjama bottoms and a tank top on. Sylar was still in his wardrobe, so she decided to get into bed. Her cupboard was on the left side, so she would sleep on the left side of the bed she concluded.

The sheets felt like silk against her arms and face and she snuggled into the cold pillow. It wasn't really comparable to the warmth and comfort another body brought, but it would do. It was somehow fitting, being in a cold and distant life that you hadn't lived.

Sylar came out in some sweats and a tank top. She didn't stare this time with much effort. _So _much effort. Before Sylar could make his way into the bed, Claire picked up a pillow from his side and threw it at his face.

"Oh, hell no. You're sleeping on the floor." She said and snuggled back into her bed.

"Don't you think we're a little past that stage?" He asked with a cocky expression.

"No." She answered simply.

He shook his head with an amused expression on his face, further proof that it wasn't really Claire the night before. He sighed as he wrenched the throw blanket she was using off her and took it with him. She protested with a "Hey!" but he just kept walking to the end of the bed. He laid out his blanket parallel to the end of the bed and got comfortable on the floor.

Claire had to use more energy to get under the doona when Sylar so rudely ripped her other one from her. Now she was back to being comfortable, she raised her right hand to play with the ring on her third finger on her left hand. She hadn't actually looked at it. She didn't know if she was too scared to, or if it wouldn't be to her taste. She just didn't know. Did Sylar have a wedding band?

After Claire had led her parents upstairs, Sylar jumped off the couch to gaze at the photo of him in a suit and Claire in an elegant wedding dress. In all truth, he didn't actually despise the idea of being married to Claire…after all, neither of them could die, it's not like he will find someone willing to accept his past, and she was special like him. She would be special without any abilities anyway. No wonder Mack was fighting for her. Well, if Mack was going to fight this hard, Sylar was going to fight harder. Mack was a lonely, manipulative son of a bitch and could get inside people's heads and screw with them. He's had first-hand experience.

"What are our last names?" Claire's voice sounded louder than she had intended in the spacious room.

"I'm not sure." Sylar answered.

"…Would it be Gray?" She asked with trepidation. She didn't want to evoke emotions in him when he thought about his former identity and self.

Sylar knew Claire was uncomfortable asking the question, but it didn't pierce as deep as he had thought, "Probably."

"Claire Gray." She said quietly to herself, just to test it out. It didn't sound too bad. She wasn't used to it, but she didn't hate it.

Something in Sylar's chest swelled when she whispered her name. Her first and his last. He didn't know if it was nervousness, shock, or pride. Probably all three.

**

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**

ARGH! I didn't know where to end it! :D teehee. Hope you like my long chapter :) I wrote more than I usually would to make up for the few days I didn't update :( I feel quite bad. But I had a speech due! :D but I've finished that now so :) hopefully no more delays.

**I LOVE YOU! :D heheheh x] REVIEW/SUBSRIBE/FAVOURITE! :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Awww you guys are so niiiice :D your reviews literally inspire me to write x] I love youuuuz. All of you :| ….. a lot…..i love you more than…dinner…and goats and….the snow….and :| ok its creepy now, sage. SORRAY! :D …luvu ^^**

**I'm actually doing something a little different in this chapter ;) review what it is teehee.**

* * *

Noah Bennet – the _real _Noah Bennet was stuck waiting in the rain for stupid, slow, posh, arrogant Angela. Ok, so maybe that was a bit unfair and wasn't like him. But she was taking so damn long! What did girls do in bathrooms?

Noah was borderline considering marching into the ladies' room of the restaurant (Angela's treat) when she exited, placing her leather gloves on as she walked.

"That was disgusting." She said and stuck her nose in the air.

"It's a four star restaurant…I doubt it was disgusting." Noah said in reply to her comment.

"I dislike public restrooms." She said to end it.

Noah just rolled his eyes and held her coat for her while she slipped into it. They exited the posh building and Noah held Angela's door open for her when she just stood there, both putting on their seatbelts when seated Angela asked, "So what is the name of this _motel _again?"

"The Stargaze Motel. Off the highway on route to Pratt." Noah said and pulled out of the driveway.

"Sounds tacky." She said and tightened her coat around her.

"Everything is tacky to you."

Angela turned her gaze to Noah, "You should be thanking me, Noah."

"Ok…thankyou. But why?" He glanced at her.

"Because I didn't get Peter involved." She said resolutely.

"…And that's something I had to thank you for?" Noah asked and turned his head to peer at Angela.

"Yes." She said and at Noah's look, she elaborated, "Whether you like to admit it or not, Noah, Mack is useful."

Noah whipped his head around, "We're not keeping him alive, Angela! End of story."

"That's why I couldn't get Peter involved before. He's too sensitive towards the sanctity of someone's life. Even Mack's. Later down the line he can get involved. But right now, Mack hasn't really done anything bad to Claire, so Peter will think there is still a chance." She said looking out the windscreen.

Noah caught onto one thing, "How do you know he hasn't hurt Claire?" He asked and looked at her.

She looked back, "I had a dream."

Noah's eyes widened, "What? Why didn't you tell me? What was the dream?" He asked, his questions stumbling over one another.

Angela held his eyes for a brief moment before answering, "You're not going to like it."

_

* * *

_

Knock Knock.

No movement from within the room.

_Knock Knock._

Groaning into her pillow, "Go away." She said not loud enough for anyone behind the door to hear.

_Knock Knock KNOCK, _"Claire, honey? Are you awake?"

Claire's eyes snapped open as her mind registered where she was. Still in this domestic nightmare with her real fake husband and fake fake parents.

"Claire? We're coming in." She heard her mother say from the other side of the door.

She went into panic mode, "Um! Just a second!" She watched the door, and it didn't open. Thank god.

"Sylar!" She whisper-screamed at him. What would her parents think if they came in and Sylar was on the floor? They would think she totally over reacted about something and put him in the doghouse. Her fake life wasn't about to be ruined if she had anything to say about it!

"Psst! Sylar!" She tried again. The only response she got was an annoyed groan from the man.

Claire glared and made a frustrated breathy sound. She picked up a pillow from the other side of the bed and hurled it towards him. It hit him right on the head from where he lay on his stomach.

"What the fu-" He stopped his question when he saw her flailing arm pointing towards the door.

"Claire? Sylar? Can we come in yet?" It was Noah that asked this time.

He swore softly and leaped off his make-shift bed, he ran to the bed but Claire was pushing at him pointing where he was sleeping. He rolled his eyes and ran to his place on the floor and kicked the blankets and pillows under the bed and everywhere.

Claire pushed the blanket back so he could get in. He slid beside her and awkwardly put his arms around her torso and her hands gripping his arms. This plan sucked. He should've just stayed on the floor.

"Um, uh, yeah, come in." She smiled like she was happy with this situation as they entered.

Sandra smiled and Noah stepped in awkwardly behind her.

"Your father and I are just going out for breakfast, would you like us to bring you anything?" She offered sweetly.

"Oh! We'll come with you!" Claire tried to move, but felt her movements were hard to complete with strong arms wrapped around her like vices.

"No, no! You two sleep in," She smiled, "We won't be long." She said and waved them goodbye. They both left after quiet goodbyes from the couple.

"Holy crap, that was close." Claire puffed in relief and let her head fall to Sylar's shoulder and she laughed breathlessly. Her heart still racing.

"Yeah." Sylar agreed just as breathlessly and let her rest her head on his shoulder. He rested his own gently on the top of her head. Hardly any pressure behind it.

They sat like that for a few minutes, not moving. Thinking about different things, Sylar thinking about the outside world – the real world. And Claire trying to convince herself she didn't like the way this moment felt.

"What do you want to do today?" She asked him, tilting her head slightly, feeling his chin against her head.

He sighed, "I was thinking we could go check out that Andrew guy." He moved his chin against her head softly, just like she had done.

"How are we supposed to find him? And don't talk about this plan so loud, Mack might hear us." Claire's voice formed into whispering the more her sentence was said.

Sylar chuckled, "He can't see us, Claire." He laughed some more.

"…He can't?" She asked.

He chuckled once more, "No. He creates _real _things. Unless he has the ability to see through walls or something…"

"Then why did he say 'just call my name and I'll be there blah blah blah'?" Her Mack impersonation was horrible and made Sylar laugh.

"We – _you _have said his name dozens of times and," His hands made a grand gesture, "No Mack." He placed them back around her body after his movement so naturally, like he had done it a hundred times.

"…So he is just here? Like, living in his own world?" Claire asked.

"Yep. Like a normal person would in the real world." He answered her.

"Ok then, let's go find this Andrew guy." Claire said resolutely and used Sylar to lean on as she hoisted herself up on the bed. She stepped quite oddly as one does when walking on a bed and jumped off.

Sylar smiled at her ever-changing mood. She disappeared into her closet.

After a second in there she popped her head out and asked, "He can't see me dressing right?"

Sylar chuckled, "No."

"Good." She disappeared back into the wardrobe.

After a second Sylar thought of something to say, "But he did choose those clothes for you!" He yelled through the wall.

"Gee, thanks! Now I'd rather go naked!" Claire said, disgusted by the idea of Mack picking her clothes for her.

Sylar's eyebrow rose slyly and he got that smirk on his face, "Well…"

"Shut up!" She yelled at him before he could finish his sentence.

* * *

Sylar had gotten tired of waiting for Claire to hurry up in the shower so he went and had one in the main bathroom. He walked down the hall, a towel around his waist and a smaller one rubbing his hair.

He entered the room to find Claire's back to him, shuffling around her wardrobe.

He smirked and stood in her doorway, "What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for-" She turned around and faltered a bit at the sight of his half-nakedness before regaining herself and turning back around, "Shoes…and go put some clothes on." Her face was red. She would be the first to agree Sylar was damn fine, but that didn't mean he had to show his muscles everywhere he went.

"Oh, too bad. I was going to go naked as well." He silently chuckled and walked away as she fumbled with boxes and various items after he spoke.

He walked around to his side and looked at the selection of clothes in his wardrobe. They were very much like the ones he had in his other life. Mainly black, dark greys and navies. But with some variation as well. This Andrew guy was really up on the detail. He chose some black jeans and a white button down shirt. Nothing fancy, but modern at the same time. He grabbed a plain navy jacket and put on a pair of black converse that were exactly his size.

He walked out, still buttoning the top of his shirt the same time Claire walked out carrying one blue converse shoe. He furrowed his eyebrows at her.

She looked shocked and horrified at the shoe, "Oh my god…"

Sylar finished buttoning his shirt and moved to his cuffs, "What?" He asked, not taking her seriously.

She held the shoe a fraction higher, "We're one of _those _couples." She practically whispered.

He looked closer at the shoe and noticed some writing on the white tip of the converse. He squinted his eyes and read the words written in black ink, it said _Sylar Forever _complete with a red heart towards the side.

His eyes widened, "Oh my god…" He said, now equally as horrified as her.

They _were _one of those couples.

* * *

Mack was borderline desperate. He wanted Claire all to himself. No stupid, sexy Sylar around. The only reason he put them together to live apple-pie lives is because he needed time to plan. And there was also the fact he wanted to show Claire how much better he was than Sylar. Mack could give her a home with a thought, he could give her diamond rings whenever she wanted, he could give her friends and family that would worship her, a car, a business, _anything_! And yet…

She still chose that failed excuse for a man.

Sylar didn't want her! Not really. He would use her then throw her away! Mack and her would live the rest of their lives together in a garden of Eden. If she behaved that is. Sure, she was young and didn't know her life role yet. But she would learn. Just how his mother learned. Although he wouldn't use some of the techniques his father had used to put his woman back into line.

Creating an entire neighbourhood full of lively people and houses was a task. But not as taxing as trying to win Claire over. He studied her, he studied Sylar. He tried to retain as much of their normal lives as possible. Except for where they lived and what not… He even tried keeping her parent's personalities as close as possible to the real thing. Andrew was very useful when it came to that. He was very precise in the detailing too. A lot was at stake for the man, and if Mack asked for it, he would get it.

Mack was powerful, and he knew that. He could create anything, everything he wanted. Except for one thing. He could give people whatever possessions they desired, but they didn't come free. Sure he could replicate Claire's body and choose her personality. But he would know. He would know she wasn't real. He had to get Sylar out of the way. He lived in a mansion, he had a servant, he had a Ferrari…but he didn't have Claire. She would complete his collection. A beautiful woman on his arm to go to the black and white formal dinners, stay home with him at night…sleep with him. He was especially excited about the last one. And she would comply with his desires whether she want to or not.

He knew he would have to face Sylar one day. The real him. He couldn't do the same things he could when he was an illusion. Actually, the lifeless shells of his copies couldn't do anything. He could see through their eyes but he was the one clicking his fingers controlling the illusions. He just had to make sure Sylar didn't kill him. Or steal his power. No matter what anyone said…he was not worse than Sylar.

* * *

"…_That _is my car?" Sylar asked disbelievingly.

Claire smiled at his reaction to the sight of their cute little hatchback, "_Our _car." She said and smiled at him before moving down the driveway to where the car sat patiently, waiting for them.

Sylar mumbled something about it not deserving the title 'car' and walked around to the driver's side of the pathetic bright red hatchback.

He flopped in heavily, rocking the small car, "It's going to break if we even order a cheeseburger."

Claire laughed her head off at this. "Well _I _think it's cute." She said while laughing.

"It's embarrassing to be seen in one of these." He started the car, and it came to life with a quiet, empty humming that didn't sound powerful at all. He turned his head slowly to look at Claire and glared.

Claire smiled and bit her lip at him. He revved to test its lack of power and wasn't surprised when it hardly responded at all.

"You're lucky I'm a good driver." He said and she laughed, and before she knew it, they were speeding down their little cul-de-sac street in their teeny red hatchback.

Finding Andrew Freedmen hadn't been as hard as they had once expected. When Sylar said "Maybe it's just as easy as looking him up in the phonebook…" he was 100% right. He was the only Andrew Freedmen in the small phonebook. And it was worth a try. What else did they have to do?

"Hey, I thought my mom said your mom was coming?" Claire asked as a sudden thought.

"Yeah, she did." He replied tightly.

"Well, she never showed up so…maybe she's not coming." Claire offered to release his sudden tension.

"Yeah, maybe." He answered shortly.

Well, that conversation was over. She said nothing after that. If he didn't want to talk about it, then she certainly wasn't going to make him.

"What's your favourite colour?" Her thoughts were interrupted by Sylar's sudden and completely random question.

She fumbled a bit, "What?" She asked, confused.

He looked at her innocently for a second before returning his eyes to the road, "Your favourite colour. What is it?" He asked again. _'Pink' _he thought with certainty. She _was _a blonde cheerleader after all.

Claire furrowed her brows, "Um, blue…" She answered, still confused as to what brought this on.

"Blue?" He said, surprised, "Ok." Well, atleast his tone was brighter.

She blinked her eyes from side to side, "Why?" She asked.

He shrugged, "Just wondering." He answered as he turned a corner.

"What's yours?" She smiled slightly at the thought of it being an extremely girly colour, like lavender or something.

He thought about this for a second, "I think it's…black…maybe a dark blue…"

"You don't know what your favourite colour is?" She asked him.

"Well, I've never really put much thought into it…" He confessed.

"What was the name of your first pet?" Claire asked. It just left her mouth, she had wanted to ask it and she guesses she was just comfortable enough to ask it. Even though it wasn't really a big question. But let's face it, the smallest things are talked about with close friends, you don't really ask a stranger what their favourite colour was. Plus, it's a safe topic.

"Chicken." He answered simply.

Claire's eyes widened, "…Chicken? What, was he your bird or something?" She asked, finding it hard to believe Sylar had ever owned a pet.

"No. A mouse." He said yet again, simply.

Claire took a brief pause to suck in her breath then burst into laughter, clenching her stomach and face going red from the strain of her lungs.

Sylar chuckled at her laughing fit.

Claire wiped her eyes and sighed, still laughing slightly, "Ahh, that just made my day." She giggled some more.

Sylar felt almost too much happiness when she said that, he didn't know why. Maybe it's because he's never 'made anyone's day' before. He wasn't particularly popular before…Well, in the good way atleast.

"What's your favourite movie?" Claire asked him, she was aware she was suddenly curious about all of these little humane details about him that everyone has.

"Umm," He thought, "I don't think I have one." He answered.

"Oh, c'mon! Everyone has a favourite movie! I'll tell you mine of you tell me yours." She offered with an all-knowing expression on her face.

Sylar laughed and said, "I honestly don't have one! Tell me yours." He smiled at her and her lips automatically moved into her own smile.

"Ok, um," She giggled and imagined this as some kind of game, "I think it would have to be…Ever After." She said confidently, but was feeling quite nervous as to how he would react.

Sylar considered this for a second, "I've never seen it." He told her.

"You haven't?" She asked, horrified.

"Nope." He smiled.

"Oh my god, ok. Well we'll watch it one day. Not even joking. And you can see how good it is and it'll be your favourite movie too." She said resolutely, not considering the commitment she just made.

Sylar laughed, "Ok, fine. We'll watch it. Even though it sounds girly."

Claire ignored his last comment. It was a movie that was suitable for each gender and every age, no matter what he or anyone else said.

The conversation ceased when Sylar eased to a halt on the curb of Andrew Freedmen's ordinary house.

**

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This chapter was gonna be longer but I'm soooo tired D: it's past midnight right now and I'm tired x] I'll post another in a couple days :)

**p.s no references to movies/music/anything like that in this story are mine. :) **


	14. Chapter 14

**Well, you ALL failed the challenge/test/kindofbutnotreally thing. :) MACK'S MONLOGUE THING was in the last chapter! :D that's what I did different DERR! :D **

**But I don't care :) you're all beautiful to me.**

* * *

"_I'm so glad you're here now, Claire."_

"_Shut up." Claire answered._

_He sighed. She was being so difficult, "Claire." He warned._

"_Don't say my name. It sounds disgusting coming from your mouth." Claire's despising glare made him angry._

"_Well that's just too bad!" He spat at her, "You're stuck with me now for the rest of your life!"_

"_No. Only until Sylar gets here." Claire said with the utmost trust in Sylar._

_Mack moved his face closer to Claire's and breathed his extremely bad halitosis over her cheek, "Sylar's not coming for you, honey." He chuckled, which sounded closer to a gurgle._

_Claire moved her head away from him a fraction. She wouldn't believe him, Sylar _was _coming for her. He promised._

"_Yes he is." She told him with more venom that a viper._

_Mack stood straight and looked down at her, "No! He's not! He's wandering around a black abyss with no hope of getting out! _Do you hear me?" _He yelled at her, his face going red with anger._

_Claire stood, just as strong, "He will come! You're just jealous you'll never be as great as him!" Claire yelled louder than he did, her voice penetrating his eardrums._

_Mack was seeing white with rage. His face contorted into an expression of pure fury. He raised his hand and struck Claire across the face with the back of his hand. Claire fell to the floor, holding her red cheek and looked into his eyes with something akin to fear._

_Mack retreated his arm back to his side and just looked at her pathetic form on the floor._

_Claire looked up at him with tears in her eyes, "Don't say you're sorry." She whispered harshly._

_Mack raised his chin a fraction, "I'm not."_

Noah looked at Angela in the car, "You're right. I don't like it." He said.

* * *

"You ready?" Claire asked and took a breath. Sylar nodded and she raised her hand and knocked on the door three times.

"I'll get it!" They heard a male voice say from behind the door.

A few seconds later, it opened to reveal a man maybe in his early thirties, medium build, dressed in a plain, faded red t-shirt and some jeans.

The man looked at them both and his eyes lost some of their shine, his smile drooping slightly. Little details any normal person wouldn't of noticed.

"Can I help you?" He asked like he was facing two police officers. Polite and tense.

"Andrew Freedmen?" Sylar asked in a very cop-like way.

"Yes." He replied expectantly.

"May we come in for a minute?" Sylar asked, nodding his head toward the open door.

The man's grip on his door handle tightened and Sylar eyed the movement, Andrew noticing Sylar noticed his obvious hesitation and uncomfortableness.

Andrew glanced behind him into his house, "I'm here with my kids. Can't we talk out here?" He asked Sylar. Not even looking at Claire since she didn't seem to be the one to make the decisions.

Sylar looked at him with a gentle expression, "No."

Andrew shifted his eyes between them and realised this was a battle he couldn't win. He curtly nodded his head and let them enter, Sylar letting Claire enter before him.

Andrew quickly shuffled ahead of them and directed his arm towards a formal lounge area, "Please." He offered.

The couple moved into the area and stood, not taking a seat on the perfect ivory couch.

Andrew speed-walked into the other room across from them, "Girls!" He called out into a space they couldn't see.

"Yeah!" A tiny voice answered.

"Stay in the playroom!" He ordered nicely.

"Ok!" They couldn't quite make out how many sweet, girly voices answered.

Andrew walked back to Claire and Sylar and stood with them. He figured he might as well be polite, "Please, take a seat." He motioned towards the couch.

"We'd rather stand, thanks." Sylar replied for both of them. Claire sent him a quick look that clearly said 'be nice'.

"Ok, what do you want?" Andrew put his hands on his hips and held their eyes.

"We have to kill you." Sylar answered, almost with no emotion.

Claire turned her head to look at him with a confused look, "Unless, you leave Mack right now." Claire added.

"Why would you have to kill me? I'm doing nothing wrong!" Andrew said defensively.

"You're giving Mack information about us!" Sylar said equally as defensive.

"I'm protecting my family!"

"And in turn putting us in danger!"

"You're not the most important person to me!"

"Well we are! You didn't have the right!"

"_Ok! Stop!_" Claire yelled when she could get a word in and placed a placating hand on Sylar's chest. She looked at him pointedly, "Stop it." She warned seriously.

Sylar clenched his jaw, but he stepped back.

"Let's settle this like adults." She told them.

"Daddy?" The tiny voice from before was back, hiding behind the corner.

Andrew immediately turned around and went to kneel in front of his daughter, "Hey, princess. I told you to stay in the other room." He ran his hand over her head.

"I know." Was all she said. Then the small girl looked up into their eyes with her pale blue ones. Such an innocent glance. Her blonde curls bouncing when she turned her head, ignorantly sucking on her finger. Her look creating a pool of guilt in Sylar. Like he was intruding on a peaceful life Andrew was making for himself. But it was a shallow pool.

"Well go back and play with your sisters." He smiled at her.

She took one more look at the intruders in her house before skipping back the way she came.

"Sylar, can I talk to you privately for a minute?" Claire didn't wait for an answer as she pulled him by the front of his jacket into an office type room, and slammed the door.

"What the hell?" Claire turned on him.

"What?" Sylar said back defensively.

"You can't just come out and say that!"

"Why not?...Huh?..." His eyes shifted, almost glaring at her, "He's said some pretty messed up stuff too!"

"All he said was he was protecting his family!" She said and in a way sort of defended the man who was supposed to be her enemy.

"_SAID THINGS __TO MACK!_" He yelled at her. Which she flinched at. When she flinched…he saw himself in her eye's reflection. His harsh expression, his angry eyes. And he saw her expression, her fearful eyes, her nearly confused look. He immediately retreated and sighed. He looked down and placed his hands on his hips.

Claire waited a second and could see the expression on his face, "Don't say you're sorry." She whispered, her eyes not leaving his downcast ones.

Sylar looked into her eyes. Hurt. His expression was pained and guilty, "I'm sorry." He said overwhelmingly genuinely. It almost hurt to watch his apologetic face be cast downward in shame at himself.

Claire could feel the back of her eyes gain pressure. She opened the door and walked out before anything else happened.

Sylar followed her a moment later.

They found Andrew still there – surprisingly. He was sitting down on the single couch with his hands clasped in front of himself nervously.

Claire took a seat on the couch Andrew had offered before. She paid Sylar no attention as he sat beside her, further away than he would normally sit.

"Why are you telling Mack things about us? …Private things…" Claire asked gently.

"To protect my family." Andrew repeated.

"Mack killed your partner. He killed another team from the company." Claire said.

"He was doing it to defend himself. It was them or him. He did what any normal human being would've done." He said back to her and glanced at Sylar.

Sylar couldn't decipher what the look meant so he ignored it, "Do you know any reason why Bennet wouldn't tell us about the teams?"

"Gee, I don't know, maybe because it was his fault." He answered sarcastically.

"He was following orders." Sylar spoke up and defended Noah.

"And he used that as an excuse to become less than human and sacrifice people?" Andrew stared angrily and hurt at them both.

"He's not like that…" Claire tried feebly.

"Well that's a matter of opinion isn't it." It wasn't a question. Everyone had their own opinion of Noah Bennet – very strong opinions, "And right now I have to do what's best for my family."

"They're not real." Claire said softly, sensitively.

"Yes, they are." Andrew replied defiantly.

"Mack created them. They're just illusions. Everything," Sylar waved his arm around him, "Everything here is just one big illusion."

"You look me in the eye and tell me that tjat little girl – _my daughter _that you saw was some fake illusion." Andrew said, obviously getting upset.

Sylar said nothing but clenched his jaw and looked sadly at Andrew.

Andrew seemed to take this the wrong way, "Girls! Come up here please!"

"Andrew…you don't have to get your children involved." Sylar told him.

"Yes I do! You don't have any children, you wouldn't know what it feels like when a man sits in your home and tells you your three children are not real!" Andrew yelled at him.

Sylar just sighed. He would never have the honour of having a child. Let alone have someone tell him they're not his. Not real.

Before anymore thoughts were conjured, three little girls wandered into the room shyly. Obviously nervous at the situation.

Andrew grabbed his closest daughter and brought her to stand in front of him. He looked Sylar and Claire in the eyes as he said, "Chloe May, born August 30th 2006, 4 years old." The young girl with brown, wavy hair looked confused and a bit scared at her father's actions but stood where he put her after he moved out of the way to make room for his second daughter, "Ella Jaye, 24th of September 2007, 3 years old." The little girl was the one they had seen before, with the curly blonde hair and blue eyes. He gently moved her to stand by her sister. He grabbed his last daughter, "Sophie Rose, born 5th of March, 2008, 2 years old." He pushed her gently to stand next to her sisters. "You look those girls in the eyes and tell them they don't exist!...Tell them!" He held eyes with Sylar, not moving, not speaking.

"We understand where you're coming from-" Claire started.

"You don't understand anything!" Andrew interrupted.

"Mack is manipulating you-" Claire started but was once again interrupted.

"HA! If anything, I'm manipulating him! I get to have a family, home, car, job, anything I want! If I would just tell him some things from time to time."

"Yeah, private things." Sylar added.

"They're hardly private." Andrew countered.

"What about my mother?" Sylar yelled at him, "Huh? That's not considered private?"

"If it was so private then why does everyone know about it?" Andrew asked and his eyebrows shifted upwards a fraction.

Sylar remained silent. He didn't know what to say or just couldn't get any words out. It was sort of a mixture of the two.

"Your mother? I don't know about that. Except you killed her." Claire tried to say it as sensitively as she could. But at Sylar's look of hurt that he flashed her, she felt so bad.

"Oh, you don't do you? Well then…let me show you." Andrew said and he leaned forward swiftly and grabbed Claire's hand.

Claire had no time to react before her mind was overwhelmed, plagued with images. Memories? It didn't feel like memories.

_The vision that came was of a young boy with big, goofy glasses and dressed like the school-punching bag. His neat hair swished with the wind as he ran. He ran with tears flowing down his cheeks and face crying. It was dark and cold, no one was around. But still, he ran._

_It appeared he was running from something, from someone. This suspicion was confirmed when a harsh "Gabriel!" pierced the crisp air._

_The small boy – Gabriel, turned his head back for a second before pushing his little legs faster. Though he didn't get too far after that. His face was ripped from view when he was grabbed from behind._

_All that could be seen was a dark and gloomy ally. And within the centre of the ally, two silhouettes could be seen struggling against one another. Small, flailing legs and arms protecting the small body that went with it. The other silhouette, not ceasing his pace of fury as he repeatedly swung his arms down into the young boy._

_And the sounds Claire heard. It gave her goosebumps. She almost cried when she heard the constant tortured screams from a young voice and the angry flurry of words coming from the older man. The screaming was the worst of it. No matter who that boy was, that young child, she wanted to swoop down into the past and save him. Rescue him from the unforgiving attack that was bestowed upon him._

_That same young boy was now walking peacefully next to someone. Holding their hand and smiling. So innocent looking._

_The two moved out of the sunlight and into what was probably a diner by the sounds of it. The hand let go of Gabriel and ushered him away. Gabriel complied and moved away from the adult._

_Looking around himself, he pulled out a small toy car. Smiling and silently congratulating himself for finding it on the way there. He started running the car along a divider that separating two dining areas. Making 'vroom' sounds as he did._

"_Gabriel!" A voice called him. Gabriel jumped at the voice, his startled actions causing him to accidently drop the car down a crack in the divider. Gabriel immediately bent down and started fishing around for it, but couldn't quite grab it._

_The voice called him again, and Gabriel looked sadly into the crack that held no sight of his toy. He went over to the adult and stood next to him. He looked ahead of him and to the man and woman standing in front of him. The woman looked kind but the man looked quite scary._

_The woman came down to his level and ran her hand over his face and hair. Which Gabriel found extremely weird and uncomfortable. And at the same time, he didn't want to be rude so he just stood there._

_The woman stood back up and nodded her head. Gabriel felt a sharp pat on his back that hit a still healing bruise. He turned to look up at his father, only to find him walking out the door. Gabriel immediately went to follow him and ran out into the sunshine to find his father enter the car he drove here in with his parents._

_He halted when the car didn't start or make a move to drive away. They were waiting for him!_

_He almost took a step when he saw it. He saw blood splatter all over the windscreen and side window. He flinched in horror. _

_Her body was unceremoniously pushed out of the car and onto the dirty gravel below._

"_Mommy?" His sweet and innocent voice called. Tears touching his eyes._

_Claire briefly wondered what had happened to that voice. That innocent touch…and now she knew. _

"_Get out of my house!" Virginia screamed and her voice faded and disappeared to be replace with the adult Sylar's pleading voice, "Mom, please."_

_The next scene was one Claire wouldn't forget._

_Virginia came at Sylar bearing a knife, her intent clear in her eyes. Sylar, protecting himself grabbed her wrist and forced the knife away from himself. An odd pressure was felt, even by Claire, as Virginia stepped back to reveal the butcher blade imbedded deep into her chest. A confused look on her face._

_Sylar's face displayed shock, grief, anguish…torture. His eyes being filled with tears as the realisation hit him that he had murdered his mother._

_Other images, the only sound going along with those images was of an excruciating yell that never seemed to end. The scream seemed to fade in and out of adult and child screams. But they were always screams._

_The images that plagued her mind were of Sylar. The cold-hearted murderer, Sylar. And other images of him and Peter together in a world with no one else. Sometimes laughing, sometimes crying, sometimes fighting. But always each other's comforter._

_Other images were of him and Claire. In their small, cramped office. Laughing at the silly things that were hilarious to them. Their annoyed faces at each other that never lasted more than an hour. His guilty face whenever she looked at him. The pull of his heart whenever she smiled at him. The complete comfortableness of their relationship. Their mutual feelings for one another that they had yet to come to terms with. Pictures of them in bed together, just being with each other. Him holding her in a way that was questionable, but not answerable. Her face whenever he said her name, whenever he cracked a joke, whenever he did something kind. They were all expressions she only made with Sylar._

_Darker images replaced those. Images and feelings. His torment and inner battles with himself as he killed people, as he tried to kill himself, as he second- guessed himself with every step he took._

_The constant betrayal he felt as he was fed lie upon lie by people he had wanted to trust. The shame and embarrassment he felt when they used him._

_The epic shift in his personality when Elle Bishop and Noah Bennet sabotaged his road to redemption._

_The pain he felt when he would remember what he did to Claire._

_His face when he made himself a promise. A promise that changed everything he was. He promised himself not to let anyone get the better of him._

_He made himself this promise twice. Once when he changed his name to Sylar. And the other when he got out of the silent and dead world he occupied with Peter. He was determined to prove to everyone he wasn't the same man he was when he committed those inexcusable crimes._

"_Claire Gray." She heard herself whisper. She felt his heart swell. But with what she didn't know._

"…_Mr and Mrs Sylar…" The annoying desk clerk said. The fun awkwardness that came afterwards._

_Her face, disbelieving and angry came front and centre into her vision, "No, I don't trust you." She heard herself say. His hurt and hopelessness was felt. It surged through her like an electric current. Debilitating and crippling and breath-taking. _

**

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8D longest chapter so far? I dunno lol :P thanks for reading x] and I'm posting tonight instead of tomorrow night! :D how nice am i? hhehehe

**-Sage.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Omg guys I literally freaked out when couldn't turn my computer on this afternoon :| all I could think was 'I HAVE TO GET ANOTHER CHAPTER DONE ARGHRHHAL;;;KJKJHKJASUYDV!~' **

**So yeah :D**

* * *

Andrew released his grasp of Claire's exposed hand by the force of Sylar's telekinesis. Andrew flew back against his chair and Claire flinched back like she had just touched a live electric fence.

"What did you do?" Sylar asked lowly and quickly with malice.

"Oh my god…" Claire whispered to herself.

Andrew laughed at his pinned spot on the single sofa, "I just showed her what you wanted to tell her." He laughed again.

Tell her? Tell her what? About his past? … The events of his childhood?

"Oh my god…" Claire said a little louder.

Sylar turned to see a single tear stray down her cheek.

He immediately moved closer and grasped her shoulder, "Claire, are you ok?"

Claire's gaze was unfocused, darting from one spot on the floor to another with no direction.

"Sylar…" She whispered. The emotions she felt while witnessing the nightmare hadn't faded.

Sylar moved his head closer to Claire and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "What is it? What's wrong?" He whispered back.

Claire's hand automatically moved to his jaw, near his ear, "I'm sorry." Was all she said.

He furrowed his eyebrows and glared threateningly at Andrew, "What did you do?" He nearly shouted.

Andrew chuckled and looked at the angry man in front of him, "You're so stupid, Sylar." He shook his head slowly as if to display his disappointment, "I thought you were going to be so much more…so much more than what you are."

"Tell me." He ordered quietly and menacingly.

Andrew slowly formed a smile, "I'm not scared of you."

Sylar's eyes flickered to the three little girls trying to sink into the edge of the couch to escape this never-experienced situation.

Sylar raised an eyebrow, "Yes. You are."

Andrew followed his eye flicker and eyed his daughters. Andrew's smile slowly faded and his expression turned into fear. Not fear for his life. But a parent's fear.

Sylar grew a menacing smirk on his lips and he rose.

Chloe, Ella and Sophie watched him with big, fearful eyes. They sent their father a worried glance.

That glance woke Andrew up like a cub's cry would wake up it's hibernating mother.

"Girls, run!" Andrew yelled at them and their little legs tumbled over each other to get around the sofa to make a dash for the front door. In the meantime, Sylar watched the girls trip and stumble over the plush white rug the lounge setting was sitting on, not watching Andrew.

Andrew took the opportunity and right-hooked Sylar right in the jaw. Sylar made a small sound of pain and stopped his fall by placing his hands on the couch where he was sitting.

"Daddy!" Called the eldest of the three girls.

Andrew turned to see their bodies not moving an inch. He turned back to Sylar to see the man's hand outstretched towards to girls.

"You bastard." Andrew whispered with tears in his eyes at the realisation of the danger his daughters were in, "What do you want? I'll do it. Anything."

Sylar wiped the blood from his lips and looked at it and twitched his eyebrow and looked back to Andrew. If he had a dime for every time he'd been punched in the face…

"Leave Mack." Sylar told him.

Andrew looked into Sylar's eyes, pleading with him. "…I can't." He whispered with the threat of a sob breaking out.

Sylar clenched his jaw. Andrew watched him twist his hand and one of his angel's cry out. He turned back just in time to see Sophie, his youngest, fly past his head and into Sylar's waiting hands.

Sophie's cry wasn't of pain, but of pure fear. Sylar was holding her under her arms facing her father.

Andrew's chin trembled and his eyes watered over as Sophie feebly grabbed a few of Sylar's fingers for further support or to try and free herself, he didn't know.

"How do you feel about having just two daughters?" Sylar asked coldly. Though his heartstrings were pulled every time the two year old let out a new set of cries for her father. But desperate times and all that…

Andrew's eyes widened a fraction, "You wouldn't." He whispered.

Sylar smirked and held Andrew's flickering eyes with his steady ones, "I think we both know I would…" He moved Sophie into one arm to lightly press his finger against her forehead. Her new cries had nothing to do with him, he wasn't hurting her at all…he had no intention of doing so either…she was just afraid.

"Wait! Ok! Wait!" Andrew yelled desperately, taking a step forward and holding his arm out, "I'll do anything but that! _Anything!_" Andrew fell to his knees and clasped his hands together to beg. Beg for his daughter's life.

Sylar sighed and shook his head slowly, "That's just not going to do, Andy."

"Claire!" Andrew shouted at the stunned girl, dead to the world on the couch, "_CLAIRE!"_

Andrew shouted loud enough to snap her out of whatever trance she was in. Claire's eyes went to Andrew's tear filled ones and immediately went to Sylar.

Her mouth opened in shock and disgust and most of all, anger, when she saw Sylar holding Andrew's daughter in his arms.

"_Sylar!_" Claire jumped off the couch and stood next to him, "What the _hell _do you think you're doing?" She made a grab for the child but Sylar moved out of her way.

"Claire, this is the only way he's listening." Sylar said, trying to reason with her.

"I don't care! She's a little girl!" Claire yelled at him and made a grab for her again, but Sylar moved again.

"Claire! Think about it…we could get what we want." Sylar's eyes brightened at her and hers darkened.

"We are not threatening the life of a toddler to fulfil the Company's orders!" Claire yelled at him.

"We're threatening that bastard not a little girl!" He yelled back at her, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Claire stood straight and held his eyes, "I won't let you hurt her." She told him strongly.

Sylar's face fell, and he just stared for a few seconds.

After that his face made an angry and sad expression, all in one. He grabbed Claire's arm and dragged her from the hearing range of Andrew. From there he leaned into her.

"You think I would do that?" He whispered, genuinely curious. Curious and hurt and sad and…betrayed. His eyes searched hers.

Claire didn't know what to say, so she just stood there. Mouth slightly open, looking into Sylar's expressive eyes. She knows he is capable of it, but she sure as hell knows he won't do it.

"…No." She whispered, holding his eyes.

Sylar visibly relaxed and he sighed, "Do you have another plan?" He asked, looking for an alternative.

Claire thought for a moment and looked at the little girl fussing in Sylar's arms, "No." She said.

Sylar nodded solemnly.

Claire opened the door for the two to exit the small office they had entered and had spoken in before.

They entered the living room…to find it empty. Void of all life forms.

They blinked and looked at each other in confusion.

"Where did he go?" Claire asked.

"I have no idea…" Sylar said and started looking around, maybe for a note or some sort of message, "He knows I still have his daughter right…"

Claire chuckled slightly, "Yes." She watched him move with the child in his arms around the room, "What are you doing?" She asked.

Sylar looked up at her, "Looking for clues, what does it look like?" He said.

Claire chuckled, "Ok, Scooby. I don't think he left anything behind."

Sylar laughed and moved the kid to his other arm, "Let's check if he took his car."

"Yeah." Claire moved and opened the door and exited into the sunlight that was quickly fading.

They both walked around to the undercover car port on the side of the house to find that empty too.

They both sighed.

"Well, what are we gonna do with this?" Sylar asked, referring to the little girl grabbing at his collar and looking around with wet cheeks and messy hair.

Claire looked for a moment, then shrugged, defeated, "I don't know." She said.

Sylar's shoulders slumped and gave her an 'are you kidding me?' expression.

Claire put her hands up, "Hey, you got yourself into this mess." She said with the hint of a smile on her face. She knew this situation wasn't funny…but she had to have perspective.

"And you're my partner, so whatever mess I get myself into, you're in it with me." He told her and gave her his signature smirk.

She rolled her eyes and looked at the toddler in Sylar's arms. Now that she had time to look, they kind of looked alike. She had big, expressive brown eyes that widened when wondering. She didn't have Sylar's perfect brown hair, but short, straight and blonde hair. Like one of her sisters. That part kind of reminded her of her own hair. A little bit of Sylar…a little bit of Claire…she briefly imagined this would look like the child she would have if she and Sylar were ever to-

_Wow! Claire! What are you thinking?_

Claire snapped out of the few seconds it took to imagine this and cleared her throat.

"Let's go." She said and began walking the short distance to the car they parked on the curb.

Sylar looked at Claire for a second then looked at Sophie, shrugged and made an 'I don't know' face at her. Her reply was to slightly tilt her head to the side and continue sucking her thumb and twirling her hair in her fingers. For some reason this made Sylar laugh.

"I'm driving." Claire said before she began walking around to the driver's side.

Sylar barked a short laugh, "Ha! No you're not." He twitched his index finger and Claire ceased her walking.

She gave him a face, "Fine." She said through clenched teeth. She turned her upper body in the direction she came but her legs were still pinned by Sylar's ability, "Are you gonna let me go? Or do I have to walk home?" She twitched her lip upwards.

He released his hold on her and they met next to the passenger door.

Claire looked at him quizzically, and Sylar replied by holding Sophie out to her. Claire made an 'oh yeah!' face and took her. She took her so naturally and instinctively, Sylar knew she would make a great mother. And so unlike him to think it but, he wouldn't mind Claire to be the babysitter – even _mother _– of his own children.

They smiled at each other and Sylar left to enter through the driver's side door.

Claire carefully slipped into the car while holding the toddler in her arms; she gave gentle reassurances to Sophie when she started to fuss.

"I hope you know what we're doing is illegal." Claire said to him as she strapped her seatbelt over both herself and the girl.

Sylar gave her a confused look.

Claire rolled her eyes at him, "No car seat."

Sylar's mouth made an 'o' shape, "Right." He said.

"Don't worry nothing will happen." She said mildly confident.

Sylar was now slightly worried, "…But what if I crash?" He asked her.

Claire placed a reassuring slap on his shoulder and kept her hand there, "I have faith in your ability." She said, thinking this was amusing.

"Right." He tried to sound confident, "…But if I do…" He looked at her.

She removed her hand and said, "What happened to all the 'don't worry Claire, I'm the best driver'?" She deepened her voice to sound more like Sylar to mock him. She laughed at his 'not amused' face.

"That's not funny." He said and his voice broke with a laugh and his face grinned.

She just laughed as he started the car and pulled away from the curb.

After about twenty minutes on the road, Sylar said suddenly, "So if I'm Scooby...that _technically _makes you Shaggy." He grinned very proudly at himself.

Claire's only response was to burst out laughing and continue in a fit of giggles that made everyone laugh in turn.

* * *

He was driving slower than usual, but not so much that Claire would notice. They arrived at their house fifteen minutes later than usual.

He breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, "Thank god." He said.

Claire looked at him and her eyes trailed over his relived face and she chuckled slightly, "You're cute." She said in the totally high-school-friend sense of the word. She unbuckled her seatbelt and juggled the kid in her arms as she tried to remove the clip.

Sylar flushed a bit and rolled his eyes as he grabbed the kid. He held her with one hand on her stomach, parallel to the ground, which she giggled at, mimicking the position of a flying person. He stepped out of the car with her like that and flopped her back into his waiting arm after he got out.

Claire had a smiling shocked look on her face. She laughed and shut the car door after she exited.

They met halfway to the door, "And I am _not _cute." Sylar said humorously.

He walked ahead of her after that and she giggled.

He opened the door and waited for ladies first.

'_Always the gentlemen.' _She smiled mischievously at him as she passed and he smiled back.

They entered into the foyer, "Here." Sylar held Sophie out to Claire and she took her.

Sophie was looking around curiously and making sounds that were incoherent and indecipherable. They both heard the word 'daddy' a few times though.

"Kidnapping now are we?" Mack's voice overwhelmed Sophie's small one.

They both turned to see him sitting comfortably on their sofa, they hadn't noticed him before.

"Where's Andrew?" Claire asked and glared at him.

"Andrew and his daughters are safe. At my house." He said and stood up, "But the thing is…I promised him _three _children…and now he wants his third back." He took a few steps toward them.

Sylar immediately moved in front of Claire and Sophie, "Answer a few questions first and we'll give her to you." He said, unrelenting.

Mack halted and sighed. He placed his hands in front of him like he always did and said, "Fine."

Sylar visibly relaxed and moved back next to Claire.

"Andrew said he was the one manipulating you. That he could get everything he wants and you'd give it to him-" Claire began to ask but was cut off.

"Oh, please," Mack waved his hand dismissively and walked a few steps to the side, "Andrew is a fool," He stopped walked and held in finger in the air, "A _desperate _fool."

Sylar and Claire gave him confused looks.

He elaborated, "Andrew never had a good life. Always an outcast, even when his powers hadn't manifested. He was easy to manipulate, that boy." He cleared his throat and sat back down on the couch, "He's always wanted a family. Maybe because he never really had one or because he wanted someone to love him, I don't know," He checked out his nails in a posh sort of way that made Sylar sick, "And I don't really care." He looked at them both and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "You two though…are more difficult."

"…More difficult?" Claire asked, holding Sophie closer.

"Yes, yes. I give you challenge after challenge and yet…you two never seem to crack. I mean, first it was your mother," He looked at Sylar, "Then it was the apple-pie life and normalcy that you crave but in a way don't want," He looked at Claire for that one, he sighed, "Maybe you two just need a little extra push." He looked resolutely at them both.

"…Extra push?" Claire asked and raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah, well, I've already been pushing your future ex-boyfriend over there a little much, and now I think it's time to get this over with." He replied to her.

Sylar and Claire shifted uncomfortably, "What do you mean?" Sylar asked this time.

Mack stood and looked directly at Sylar, "I've already shown you what you're never _ever _going to have." He formed a sinister smirk on his face, "You're never going to have a home…a wife…you're never going to belong, not really. Yourself and others can include you all they want but…you know you don't deserve it."

Sylar clenched his jaw.

"You don't know that." Claire spoke up, and both the men looked at her. Sylar with a shocked expression and Mack with an annoyed one.

"Claire, honey, I'd hate to disfigure that pretty face of yours." Mack said to her.

"Oh really? Because I'd love to disfigure yours." She said back to him with a lowered tone.

Mack's furious expression made her gulp. But she wouldn't be as confident as she was now if Sylar hadn't been there with her. She knew subconsciously and very consciously that he would protect her.

"Give me the child." Mack spoke directly to Claire.

"…No." She said feebly.

Mack smiled menacingly, "I'm not asking."

Sophie, the little, innocent child in Claire's arms wavered. Claire and Sylar both stared shocked as she disappeared and Claire's arms wrapped around the thin air that had replaced her.

Mack chuckled at their faces, "You didn't think I'd give him a real baby did you? He loves them and everything…but he's an idiot." His eyes shifted between theirs, "I have to go away for a while." He announced suddenly and loudly.

"What? Why?" Claire panic-asked.

"To think, honey. And I'm sure you have a lot to think about too." He smiled at her. It was probably meant to be friendly, but it made her insides turn.

"Think about what?" She asked quietly.

"Well, I have to think how to get rid of a pest problem," He looked at Sylar for a moment then back to Claire, "And I'm sure you have to think about what to wear to our wedding when you leave this pathetic excuse for a man and choose me."

"I'm not choosing you." She told him for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Mack was trying to contain his anger, "You will. Anything he do I can do better."

Claire snorted, "Now, I _know _that's not true."

Mack disappeared for a fraction of a second and appeared right in front of Claire. He grabbed her arms, "It _is _true, Claire. I can give you everything! _Everything! _What can he give you? Huh? He can give you a good night and a broken heart and that's it!" He yelled at her, and her expression was fearful.

Sylar reacted almost instantly after that. He grabbed Claire's upper arm with one hand and shoved Mack away with his other, bringing Claire behind him.

"Don't touch her." Sylar said dangerously.

Mack looked into Sylar's eyes and saw a guardian angel protecting his target. But it was somehow more than that. So much more.

Mack straightened and fixed his butler's bow, "I'll be back." He looked into Claire's eyes promisingly and he disappeared.

'_A good night and a broken heart.' _His words rang through Claire's mind. She knew what they meant – obviously. She wasn't an idiot. But she didn't believe them. Or…atleast she didn't want to.

Sylar's arm remained on Claire's as they just stood there. What a waste of a day. They had gotten completely nothing accomplished. Sure, they had found Andrew, but now he was long gone. They had another showdown with Mack…but what had they accomplished today? He has accomplished being humiliated in front of Claire yet again, scaring away their lead, fake-scaring children…

* * *

The sun had set below the tree line, and they were both tired from the day's events.

"I'm going to bed." Claire announced, out of the blue and exhausted.

"Yeah, me too." Sylar said in an equally exhausted voice.

Sylar followed Claire as she ascended the stairs. They walked to the end of the hallway and entered their shared bedroom.

Sylar looked to the floor and wondered where his pillows and blankets went when he remembered this morning's intrusion. He sighed as he began kicking the pillows to the space on the floor he'd slept the previous night.

Claire watched him with pity and bit her lip, "I'm going to get changed." She said and made her way over to her closet.

"Me too." Sylar replied and went to his wardrobe.

He chose out some pyjama pants and a simple t-shirt. He sighed when he exited and walked to his bed. He practically fell on top of it in exhaustion; he barely had enough to energy to lift the thin, scratchy blanket up enough so he could slide under. He lay there with his arm over his eyes and his hand resting on his stomach. He didn't want to think about Mack, about Claire, about his life. He didn't want to think about anything. Because thinking about anything just made him upset. Everything in his new life wasn't going according to plan at all. He didn't want any of this, he didn't want Claire to hate him, he didn't want to be chasing psychotic weirdos, and he didn't want to go home to a stinking, cold hotel room at the end of the day. He would list what he _did _want for himself…but that list would take too long to even think up.

He heard Claire slip under the thicker and warmer doona and sigh.

"_I've already shown you what you're never ever going to have." _Mack's words to Sylar rang through Claire's ears. She would imagine herself in Sylar's shoes. How everyone wouldn't give him a chance even after he has repented, blamed him for something he could not control, submitting to a higher power that you don't agree with…not feeling loved, never feeling the comfort of home. Or the comfort of somebody else for that matter. His story was just a sad one. Mack thought Sylar would never have anything – _someone _to call his own. Well, Claire thought different. No, she _knew _different. Sylar wasn't a _completely _hateable guy…well _now _atleast. He was funny, smart, emotional, attractive… she didn't know what he was so worried about. He'd find someone to spend the rest…oh yeah. He couldn't find anyone that would live forever. He changed his evil ways when he feared he would die alone…only to live alone…it hardly seemed fair. Which was worse?

And his past. Claire knew she wouldn't have the strength to get over something like that…so she wondered how a little boy would…but Sylar was always the strong one.

"Sylar?" She whispered into the dark, "Are you awake?" For some reason she was felling incredibly lonely. Although her subconscious was telling her someone was there in the room with her, she didn't seem to register it.

"Yeah?" He whispered back and she heard him shuffle around a bit.

She bit her lip for a moment, "Can you come here?" She asked hesitantly.

Sylar furrowed his eyebrows, "What do you mean?" He wanted to be completely sure of what she was asking and what he was asked to do.

"Like…here, just come here." She said.

'_Ok then…' _Sylar thought to himself.

He removed himself from the stiff position he had opted for and did a push up to push himself into a standing position. He walked around to the side of the bed she wasn't occupying and pulled back to covers slowly and carefully. He slid onto the cool sheet that felt like heaven against his body. He shifted a little and got comfortable.

Claire felt his weight shift herself and the mattress they were laying on. She very purposely shifted closer to him, laying on her stomach with her hand brought up to rest her head on. She saw Sylar turn his head to face her as she did this in the dim light of the moon and streetlamp.

They looked into each other's eyes and Sylar moved to mimic Claire's position. There they lay, like a mirror, eyes moving when the other's did, laying on their stomachs, reading each other.

"Tell me what you saw." Sylar whispered to her.

His breath fanned across her cheek, so much better than the time Mack had done that. She silently appreciated the fact it was Sylar here. Sylar and not anyone else.

"You." She whispered back and they held eyes.

"Me?" He inquired.

Claire only nodded.

"What did you see?" He whispered to her.

Her chin trembled along with her voice, "I could see you…and hear you…and _feel _you…and…" She didn't know what to say as she trailed off. Memories that weren't hers plagued her mind.

"Hey, shh…" He soothed her. She wondered why for a second then realised she had tears in her eyes and down her cheeks, she hadn't started full blown crying yet which was a relief. He gently placed his hand on her back in between her shoulders and rubbed soothing circles.

She didn't want him to stop, she wanted to be soothed. To be comforted. Part of her told her that _he _was the one that needed comforting. But this felt too good. She made small crying sounds as she shuffled closer till he was over half her body. They stayed like this for a while. Neither knowing just how long.

"I couldn't even begin to tell you what I saw…" She whispered into the hollow space in between his collarbones.

He rubbed circles into her back as he embraced her, "It's ok." He whispered. If she didn't want to tell yet, he wouldn't force her. Even though the curiosity was eating him inside.

She tried to get something out, anything. But she was holding her body rigid and holding her breath to force her sobs to stay inside. His voice now was nothing what it was back then in the memories. This somehow comforted her. She was comforted by the fact he could defend himself, that he had a good heart, that he hadn't let his old life ruin him.

"You better not cry like this when we watch Ever After…" He said with a smile on his face.

Claire body relaxed as she let out a long laugh, body shaking with the action.

She settled and pressed her face against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist as he ran his hand through her hair, down her face, down her back, everywhere.

"I'm sorry." She whispered to him.

"For what?" He whispered back. She had hardly anything to be sorry about.

"Just…I'm sorry." She said again and buried her face deeper.

Sylar didn't know what to say, 'I forgive you'? She didn't need to apologise in his books. So instead, he said nothing. He pressed his mouth against the top of her head and they both fell asleep to each other's scent and heartbeat.

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**SUBSCRIBE/REVIEW/FAVOURITE :D I love you :|**

Holy crumbs! 4677 words! :O lol longest so far :P I've noticed the last two (three?) chapters have been substantially longer than the rest :P hope you enjoyed it! :D


	16. Chapter 16

**Jeez! :D its soooo hot! D: can't even go outside its too hot (unless going to the beach which I will actually probably do later :) ) again, THANKYOU soooo much to all who have reviewed! Seriously! :D you people are literally the ones that keep me writing! :)**

**I haven't posted in like 4 daysss! :O dw, I'm not dead :)**

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Claire awoke to the scent of cooked eggs and sizzling bacon. Also to the soft, steady movement of her human pillow.

Her mind flashed back to the other times Sylar had been the first to wake and had wake her up in a very distinct way. She smiled at him, at herself, at his angelic expression, at everything in this one isolated moment.

She lifted her head to bring her lips intimately close to his ear, "Sylar." She whispered.

She moved her head back in time to see him scrunch his eyes tightly for a split second then return to the face of a peaceful sleeper.

She giggled. Did he do that often?

She placed her face against his once more and the whispered, "Sylar, wake up." She would remember the first time he did that to her for the rest of forever.

The hand on her hip, which she didn't notice before, grasped tightly for a second then released and moved around to the centre of her back. He sighed slightly and buried his face in her neck.

She giggled, once again, and said, "I know you're awake." In a much more normal tone of voice.

He tightened himself around her and she felt him smile, "No, I'm not." He mumbled.

Claire laughed and pushed his shoulder, "C'mon, smells good downstairs."

Sylar groaned loudly, "Your parents are still here?" He relaxed his body and fell away from her.

Claire laughed, "Oh c'mon! Don't be that type of husband!" She said and smacked him on the arm. She hopped off the bed and looked around for a jacket or something to put over her singlet.

"Where did my jacket go?" She mumbled to herself and wondered. She threw things around the room, looking for the jacket she wore yesterday without going into her closet to look for another one to wear. No, that would just be defeat. But defeat presented itself in a different way and she groaned, "I'm wearing yours." She said angrily and zipped up Sylar's navy blue jacket.

Sylar lifted his head to watch her do this and smiled and flopped his head back onto the pillow after she zipped it up.

She looked expectantly at him with her hands on her hips.

"Looks good." He mumbled, half asleep.

Claire rolled her eyes at him, "Hurry up. I'm hungry." She turned and walked out the door, leaving him behind.

She walked down the hall and took the time to inhale as much of the jacket's smell as possible. Although she'd just been sleeping with that same scent for over nine hours…she couldn't get enough and most certainly wanted more.

She descended the wooden stairs and walked through the lounge and into the kitchen.

"Good morning, honey!" She was greeted by her mother the second she caught sight of her.

She was really getting sick of 'honey' since it was Mack's favourite, "Morning Mom and Dad." She smiled and gave her father a kiss on the cheek.

"Where's that hunky husband of yours?" Sandra winked at Claire totally exaggeratedly.

She might not of been her real mom, but she could still embarrass her like she was.

"Mom!" Claire complained at her, face flushed. "And no one's used the word 'hunky' in thirty years."

"Who's hunky?" Sylar asked as he strolled into the kitchen.

"Speak o' the devil!" Sandra exclaimed as Sylar quickly gave her a kiss on the cheek and a 'good morning' and gave Noah a nod.

Way to just spill the beans, Mom! "Are the eggs ready?" Claire asked.

"Two minutes, Claire." Sandra answered and shook her head with a smile.

Sylar moved and sat on Claire's right at the small square breakfast table.

"Well, I am pretty hunky." Sylar said smugly and smirked at Claire as he adjusted his chair.

Claire smiled and rolled her eyes, "For the record, _Mom _was the one to say that, ok? Not me." She pointed to herself.

"Sure." Sylar said, humouring her.

Claire just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Sandra came over to the two and placed a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of each of them.

"Mmm, thank you." Sylar said to Sandra and rubbed his hands together before picking up his fork.

"You're welcome." She replied brightly and ran her hand over his head while walking away.

The pair dug into their plates of eggs. They tasted much different than the eggs the real Mrs Bennet made, but they weren't completely horrible either.

The comfortable silence that surrounded them was like unsolved problems. It was comfortable till the problem became too much to bear. One bearing it for the other's benefit and the other totally clueless to the silent wager in one body. And when the curiosity did become too overwhelming, one cracked. Like in this instance.

"Claire," Sylar said quietly so her parents wouldn't hear, she lifted her head with a wondering expression, munching on some eggs.

"Yeah?" She said brightly.

"When are you going to tell me what Andrew showed you?" He asked quietly. His eyes penetrating hers, his expression soft and caring.

Claire slowed the pace of her chewing and drew her eyes away from his all-knowing ones. He knew this was hard for her, he knew she'd be reluctant to say anything; she knew that his curiosity was burning a hole through his skull, yet he was still being sensitive towards her and the topic.

"Not now." She said quietly and she watched his jaw clench and unclench. He was mad at her, she could tell.

"Ok." He said, equally as quiet while he scraped eggs down his plate.

She looked up and searched his downcast eyes. It was like they hadn't even spoken about Claire's touchy subject.

"You're not mad?" She asked, almost a whisper.

He looked up innocently and shrugged slightly, "No." He answered her. He looked at her borderline confused face mixed with something else resembling pride and gratitude, but somehow not, so he said, "I know you're going to tell me one day. And even if it's not in this lifetime, I can wait till the next…and the next, and the next…" His face slowly formed a smile while looking at his fork pierce the sloppy eggs.

She smiled in turn, at his words, at his smile, at his optimism, at him. "And the next…" She added to the many lifetimes they'd be in each other's company.

He laughed shortly and placed his plate and fork with perfect manners in a placement that suggested he was finished.

"So, what are you two doing today?" Claire asked her parents.

They both looked up and Noah sipped his coffee as Sandra answered, "Well, we were going to pick Virginia up from the airport," Loud coughing from Sylar, "But unless you two want to do that…"

Claire composed herself quicker than Sylar and said, "Uh, no, no. It's not problem if you guys do that?"

"Of course not, honey!" Sandra shook her head at Claire and proceeded in wiping the benches.

"Let's go upstairs." Claire whispered to Sylar and he nodded, disconnected.

"We're going to get ready for the day." Claire announced to her parents with a fake, bright smile.

"Alright, honey." Sandra said dismissively and wiped more bench.

* * *

Sylar followed Claire up the stairs robotically. Hardly putting any conscious thought into his movements. He thought he had succeeded in dodging the bullet that was his mother. His mother's reincarnate? Her ghost coming back to haunt him. Even if it was just Mack's illusion, it sure felt like an inescapable nightmare.

Claire slammed their bedroom door shut as soon as they entered and she turned to Sylar, her hair creating a halo for a second with the action.

"It'll be fine." She said to him reassuringly.

Sylar's unfocused eyes that were erratic in their movements were now locked to Claire's and dilated, "Fine?" He half yelled.

"Well all Mack has is what Andrew has told him!"

"Which is everything!"

"No! He can only see your actions and events, not the feelings you felt while experiencing them!" Her voiced raised an octave.

Sylar paused for a second, "The thing about emotions is they're kind of displayed on your face at that time!" Sylar continued to stare at her like she had grown a second head.

"Yeah well, vulnerability goes hand in hand with childhood. But now you're an adult and when you were the _old _Sylar you didn't show-"

"Childhood?" Sylar asked.

"…Yeah…he has knowledge of your childhood…" She said and cast her eyes downward.

Sylar clenched his jaw, "How much did he show you?" He asked through his teeth.

"I already told you that I saw you as a kid-" She tried to explain.

"But _which_ _part_?" He yelled at her.

Claire fumbled for the words he wanted to hear, "Wha- I don't know! When you were maybe five or six!"

Sylar fluttered his eyes to a close and stepped back, he lifted his hands behind his head and his face directed towards the heavens. As if some saviour was going to swoop down and save him as he paced a few steps from Claire.

Claire's chin quivered as she watched him be like this, "I thought you said I could tell you when I wanted…" She said quietly.

He stopped pacing and moved his hands to cover his eyes, "I did! You can!" He fumbled, "It's just…" He sighed and placed his hands on his hips with his eyes now directed towards hell, a concept he was familiar with, "I don't know." He said quieter than he had intended.

He looked at Claire and saw her eyes glistening with unshed tears. He couldn't explain how he felt at that moment. Bad? Guilty? Those words meant nothing in comparison.

He sighed and made his way back over to her. She tilted her head downwards as he came close.

Sylar didn't think as he wrapped his arms around her and Claire didn't think either as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, his head dropping to rest his forehead on the top of her head.

"I know." She whispered back into his chest. Their extreme height difference causing her face to be smooshed against him.

* * *

If Angela Petrelli stops to go to the bathroom one more time, he is going to blast her away. It's like she couldn't grasp the severity and urgency of the situation. He certainly did.

Angela wriggled and shivered as if she imagined bugs crawling across her skin and said, "That's the last time I use a public restroom." She folded her gloves neatly across her lap and looked at the forever-stretching space of road ahead.

Noah felt like saying 'that's what you said last time' but decided to leave it. However he did say something that would get her equally as frazzled, "If this stupid idea doesn't work, I'm calling Peter, Matt, Mohinder, everybody I can think of."

Angela pursed her lips, "Peter would most likely kill Mack after you tell him what I witnessed in my dream. But Mack is useful, he can be rehabilitated."

"No, he can't. He killed four of my teammates and deserves to die, Angela!" Noah said, extremely frustrating at her perseverance.

"Just like how you're going to kill Sylar when we get to Mack's?" Angela asked in a particularly condescending way and looked at the side of his face to watch his reaction.

Noah sighed and his brows rose a fraction, "Yeah, well, I don't think that's going to happen anymore." He said and looked over to Angela who stared at him with raised eyebrows, her version of a shocked face. He rolled his eyes and said, "Claire seems to have gotten a bit attached. She'll never forgive me if I kill him."

Angela's already surprised face let shine even more, which gave her an almost scary expression. Her wide eyes wider, her eyebrows almost disappearing beyond her hairline, her lips puckered.

"And has that ever stopped you before?" She asked, her eyelids fluttering as she did.

"It was different before…_he _was different before." Noah said and made an effort not to look her in the eyes.

"He is still a killer, Noah. You know that just as well as I do." She said. Images of Nathan's smiling face, his heroic and inspiring speeches…his dead body sitting in that chair flashing through both of their minds.

"He's your son's best friend." Noah said.

"Yes, well. Peter merely pities him. It only took Nathan's brother five years to forgive Sylar…it would take his mother a lifetime."

And that was the end of that conversation. He didn't want to continue it just as much as she didn't. He didn't want to evoke extremely painful memories and emotions within Angela. She had already suffered too much.

So instead he spoke about their ridiculous, never-going-to-work plan, "The man at the front desk said stay on the main highway to Pratt, didn't he?"

"Yes." Angela replied, still a little offended by their last conversation.

"Last time I checked, Mack's house was down an off-road on the highway, so we'll just have to keep our eyes peeled."

"Why don't you check Macky's file?" Angela asked, looking at herself through her little pocket mirror she had removed from her purse.

"Because I gave his file to Claire and Sylar." Noah said to her, briefly glancing at her to see her apply a new layer to her already perfect lipstick.

"And you didn't think to print another one?" Angela asked almost unbelievably.

"I know everything about that guy. My memory is just as good as the file."

Angela stared at the side of his proud face for a moment, "Yet, I had to stop in that dirty motel to ask for directions."

Noah rolled his eyes, "Well it's not my fault this car didn't come with a directory."

Angela chuckled for a moment then went back to applying more unnecessary makeup to her already flawless, slightly wrinkled complexion.

The car was silent after that for a while. Silent except for Angela's demand that Noah pull over at some gas station and ask for directions. And ofcourse, Angela won, like she always did in their little arguments.

"Look there's a town right there, ask someone in there." Angela waved her hand dismissively at the quaint little town, all bright and sunny with family homes and perfect green grass. Short picket fences the only protection these neighbours had from one another. But as they drove further into the town, they noticed there were no people about. Just a mass of houses in a perfect housewife setting.

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ARGH! Sorry that took so long to get out! D: just been busy you know, Christmas and everything :P and THE HEAT! ARGH! TOO MUCH HEAT IN AUSTRALIA, GET ME OUT OF HERE! So that means I'm at the beach all the time :) teehee

**I love writing scenes between Angela and Noah! :D (I don't ship it or anything…I just like their mutual understandings and quests and whatnot :))**

**Ok ok ok ok ok I'll try upload quicker next time :D please, have mercy on my soul :)**

**p.s why didn't you tell me there was only a 15 document limit and save me a heart attack? geez.**


	17. Chapter 17

:) I'm eating yoghurt right now. Jealous?

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"I just don't think we should give up on Andrew." Claire pleaded with Sylar.

Sylar rolled his eyes, they've already been over this, "Just leave the man be in his ignorance till Mack decides he's not useful anymore and kills him off." He said to her, obviously not caring at all what happened to Andrew Freedmen.

"That gives Mack the advantage though…" Claire said to his emotionless and emotionally drained face, trying to reason with him.

"No, we have the advantage. We know anything he throws at us, may it be a sword or my mom, we know they're not real. Nothing is this hellhole is real." He replied and rubbed his forehead a little.

Claire felt pity for him. She knew he wouldn't want that, not at all. But she couldn't help it, she's only human. "How are we meant to find him then?" She asked with her hands on her hips.

"I have something he wants." Sylar said with his head down.

Claire furrowed her eyebrows, "What?" She thought she might offend him by asking, meaning she didn't notice Mack having any interest in him – except the torturing him thing – she thought Mack only wanted Sylar's life.

Sylar looked up into her eyes from his seated position on the bed, her in front of him with her hands still on her hips.

He just looked at her. She shrugged and glanced sideways, why was he staring? Sylar flinched his eyebrows upwards and smirked.

Claire's eyes widened and she held a pointed finger out, her finger pointed towards the ceiling, "Oh no. Nup, no. I decline."

"Do you have another plan?" He asked with his same smirk.

It's funny how he always gave her a chance. Always asked her if she had a better plan than his even though he knew she didn't. She wondered what he would do if she 'yes'. He would most definitely want to hear what she had to offer, but unfortunately this time, she didn't have jack squat.

"No." She said sadly.

Sylar came to life and bounced off the bed, "Good. Let's go." He began walking his way over to the shut door.

Claire walked in front of him and he halted, looking at her confusedly, "Don't you wanna wait?" She asked innocently.

"No. Why would I?" He said simply and moved to walk around her, but like a dance, she moved perfectly in turn to stand in his way again.

"Sylar." She nearly whispered, disappointed?

"What?" He asked defensively.

"You're running away." She told him.

He folded his arms, "No I'm not. I just wanna get out of this place." He told her defensively.

"Don't you want to stay here and face your mom?" She asked him, not moving out of his way to the escape he wanted almost desperately.

"Why would I do that?" He asked, his eyes shifting between hers seriously.

"I just think it's something you need to do."

"I don't. I'm fine if I never see her again. Because you know, she meant to be dead and stuff." He answered her condescendingly.

"This might be your only chance." She said to him seriously.

"Only chance to what? Say goodbye? Tell her I'm sorry?" He almost choked on the words, but he was strong and Claire didn't notice, "I've already done those things."

She stepped closer to him and folded her own arms, her face portraying nothing but kindness and caring and pleading, "To make peace."

He looked at her for a minute. He's already been too emotional on this stupid mission, he'd let Claire see him at his worst at one point, whether it was in his old life or his new one, Claire was the only one to see what she wasn't supposed to and what he hadn't intended her to.

"With yourself." She said after a few seconds, "With what you did."

"It was an accident." He whispered. He couldn't say it enough. She had to believe him.

"I know it was." She said hurriedly. She didn't want him to think she didn't know that fact better than anything else. She saw his face when he was faced with his mother the first time. The pain, the anguish, it's not something one can easily forget.

He moved past her anyway as she said this. She tried to grab him feebly but he wrenched his arm away from her and he ripped the door open and sauntered out. She watched him walk fast down the hall and skip steps as he jumped down the stairs. She couldn't see him anymore after he descended the stairs but she heard him slam the front door as he left, she flinched when the sound pierced the now silent and empty room. Every room felt colder, more distant, unwelcoming when Sylar wasn't in it. She didn't notice but a tear had fallen with the sudden jerk of her flinch.

* * *

"I knew his mother would be the key." Mack said excitedly and triumphantly.

Andrew sat in the chair on his right, his eyes downcast.

"If I can't get Claire to leave Sylar, then we'll just have to get Sylar to leave Claire." He laughed with a burst of excitement he hasn't felt since the first time he heard Claire's sweet voice through his door that one late morning not so long ago.

"Are you sure going after the guy's mom is the best thing though?" Andrew spoke up from his seat.

"Why are you asking, Andrew?" Mack asked, testing Andrew, daring him to answer.

He answered anyway, stammering slightly as he did, "Well it's just, I've seen this guy's life. And his mother seems to be at the root of it, maybe not the root itself, but one instance that helps create the centre of his problems. I saw his face as he killed her, I saw his expression when he was a kid and met her for the first time, even if he doesn't remember it. It's all very tragic."

Mack just stared at the sap in front of him for a moment, "And what makes you think I care what that jackass's face looked like as he murdered his own mother?"

Andrew gulped, "Uh, I don't know." He said weakly, "But I've seen your past too, Mack. Not everyone is born a monster."

"…Thank you for your kind words, Andrew. Now get out of my sight before I make a rock fall on your head." He said simply and went back to staring proudly at the grand fireplace situated in the grand room of the grand mansion.

Andrew tried atleast. He wanted his girls. He wanted to hug them and hold them. He wanted his wife. Sorry, _ex_-wife. All he wanted was for her to love him, love him like no one else had. But she didn't – couldn't she said. But that didn't matter anymore, he had his children. And they were all that mattered now. Sure he could create another Amanda, with the help of Mack. He could make a perfect copy of her. But she was already perfect; he just wasn't perfect enough for her.

It's not that he didn't like Claire _or _Sylar. He could tell they were nice, genuine people. He's seen their history after all. Knows the tragic events that follow them both to make them both what they are today. They've both handled what destiny has thrown at them better than anyone else could have. Just like him. It was destiny that took his first child away from him. It was destiny that made dear Amanda leave him when she couldn't deal anymore. When he told her he could give her more children, a better home, a better life… it was destiny that made her say no. He knew what Mack was doing wasn't fair. To either of them. Threatening each party with family. And he was a part of it, which created a sickening pool of guilt and disgust in his gut.

* * *

"I told you and now I'm telling you again, there's no town in this location on this map!" Noah yelled, an extremely large unfolded state map shielding his view of the road.

"It has to be on there somewhere. You probably don't even know where we are, and keep your eyes on the road, Noah. Goodness gracious, you'd think you were a teenager the way you're acting." Angela said to him, her words being repeated atleast twenty times in the last hour, looking at her lap and fiddling with her purse as she said it.

Noah groaned loudly, "I'm calling Peter!" He exclaimed and violently scrunched the large map the best he could and shoved it behind him, it staying in mid air between his seat and the backseat as if its reluctance to stop annoying him was making it come to life.

"And how do you expect Peter to come and save us, hm? He cannot fly like Nathan." She told him logically.

Present tense. She used present tense when she spoke of Nathan just now. She hadn't done that in the past…

"Fine." He agreed, "Let's just drive around then till we find a sign of some sort…"

* * *

"Claire, honey? Was that Sylar that just left?" Sandra yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

Claire instantly wiped the tear that had escaped and walked to the open door and shouted back, "Yeah, he's, uh, just going to get gas…" Wtf? _Gas?_

'_Really, Claire? That's the best you could come up with…'_

Sandra waited a second before replying, "Oh, ok honey. Well your father and I are leaving for the airport now, be back in a while, ok? Love you!" She shouted.

Claire didn't bother replying, her mom and dad were probably thin air by now.

What she did do though was decide to raid her closet. She hadn't so much as snooped since they'd gotten here. All they've been doing is trying to find a way out. And it's quite clear that's not going to happen anytime soon.

She moved silently (she didn't know why) over to her closet and slowly opened the door and peeked in.

"Helloooo?" She said in a ridiculously high voice, "Is anybody in there?" She added a British accent to it…

She laughed at her stupidness and imagined Sylar joining in and laughing too if he were here. He _so _would have.

She decided to start from the bottom then make her way up to the top shelf that ran all the way along the walls of the wardrobe. She fumbled around her draws and only found underwear, socks and bras. Which made her feel sick considering where they came from. Her hands rummaged around the back of the closet, through her shoes and clothes she's just tossed around. Her hands hit something. She craned her neck to see a fairly large box her hands were touching. She furrowed her brows and pulled it out, being surprisingly heavy. It was an ordinary, black, wooden box about the size of a computer box.

She was almost afraid to look into it. Had Mack intended her to find it? She hoped not. She ran her hands over it briefly, feeling the smooth, textured wood beneath her palms. With a smile on her face she unclasped the lock on the front and lifted the lid that fell back and stayed upright thanks to a trusty little chain connecting two corners.

It's contents made her smile drop. It was filled with frilly, sensual, pervy…lingerie…

'_I thought me and Sylar were the cute, innocent couple! What the hell is this?' _She thought to herself.

She picked up the first article of clothing. The top half was relatively innocent, just a corset. A baby pink silk on the front broken up occasionally by strings of lace travelling downwards evenly. The white frills around the border completing it. She wondered if she would consider wearing it when she got older…and for who, she could only think of one person, naturally.

And the bottom half! (Or should she say lack thereof…) They were simply those panty-hoes that you see exotic dancers wearing and a pair of skimpy, lacy underwear. She didn't want to look anymore, knowing where they had been, or pretended to be…she slammed the lid and shoved it aside with a disgusted sound, not bothering to put it away properly. She already felt dirty just glancing at it.

She decided her exploration with the floor was finished. She _certainly _didn't want to discover anything worse. She looked above her and to the shelf. There were heavy blankets, a couple shoe boxes and other miscellaneous items. She looked around, hoping to find something resembling a step-ladder, but couldn't find one. She cursed her short genes. If Sylar were here he would be able to reach. Sighing, she placed one foot on the top of her little drawer stand and grasping the horizontal pole where her clothes hung. She took three fast breaths and prayed her anchor wouldn't break and hurled herself up. She waited a few seconds and decided it was safe to continue. She smiled at her inventiveness and scanned the top shelf; it was all rather dusty, making her nose tickle and a stale scent to hit her nose. Dusty except for one area, just to her left, not particularly accessible, but she would try.

'_C'mon, Claire, you were a cheerleader all through high school, just reach!' _She demanded herself.

She stretched her arm till it hurt. Her fingers slipped and scratched the leather binder of a book. Using her nails, she dug them into the binder slightly as to not leave a mark and slid it more towards the edge. Now within reach she grasped it with one hand it slid it over the edge. She didn't expect it to weigh a tonne though so as soon as it was away from its home and resting place on the shelf, it slipped from her weak grip and dropped to the floor with a thud on the wood.

Claire made an 'oops' face and jumped down from her position to kneel beside the book.

It had fallen out onto an open page. She noted it wasn't a book at all, but an album as there were photos displayed artistically across the open pages. Her eyes recognised the faces in the photographs immediately, for she looked at them every day, one in the mirror and one before she went to sleep every night.

She slammed the album's cover closed before her mind could process the images' positions. But she couldn't get one out of her mind. She only she glanced at before she shut the memories up. It was of her and Sylar, they were dancing. In a romantic position with Sylar's hand enveloping one of hers with his arm around her waist. His face in the crook between her shoulder and her neck, his eyes closed. The angle the photograph was taken, almost side-on, but not, allowed her to see her face partially. She was smiling slightly, her eyes closed also, resting on Sylar's body. She could just imagine it now, them twirling or simply moving side to side to a slow, romantic song with the only illumination being the dim lanterns that hung above and the moonlight, lighting them up and shadowing other couples around them. She could feel his warmth against her front and his hand on her lower back; feel his breath as it caressed her neck, his gentle control as he moved them in time with the music. The idea and concept of the moment not being completely unfathomable now that she had created somewhat of a relationship with the man.

Claire's thoughts returned to reality when her higher thought travelled to the real man in the pictures. Where was he? Where was Sylar?

She pulled out her trusty pink phone to dial his number. Did Mack's alternate reality have good reception? She flipped it open and located three perfectly formed little white bars. She smiled. She searched her phonebook for his name and hit dial.

It rang just once, "Claire?" He asked, confused.

"When are you coming…home?" She asked and felt it appropriate to use the familiar and comforting term, she tried not to make her decision evident.

She heard him sigh on the other end, "Now."

"K, good." She said and smiled although she knew he couldn't see it.

"Hey, Claire, just one question." He suddenly inquired, his tone jumping an octave from his previous quiet one.

"Yeah?" She asked curiously.

He cleared his throat, "It's very understandable that you would call me considering I left like I did – which I'm sorry for by the way – and therefore clouding your mind with undeniable worry and grief at the lack of my presence and left you feeling lonely without my company, _but_" He said and paused, "Did you think to call your father at all when you realised your cell got reception?"

Her eyes widened, "Umm…" Her face made the 'oops' face again, but this oops was much bigger than dropping a book, "Oops." She said, wording her feelings perfectly.

She heard Sylar chuckle slightly, "Don't do it without me! I'll be home in a bit!" He ordered her and she heard a considerable amount of power burst through the car before the line went dead.

She giggled and waited for him. She took one glance at the photo album. She had half a mind to look for her photograph again, wanting to see it one more time. She wanted to know the date it was captured, who took it, if she saw anyone she knew in the background, everything – anything. But she knew she shouldn't. Because then she would start wanting something she knew she couldn't possibly receive. And, for an unknown yet completely known reason, she wanted.

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Woot! Concert tomorrow niiiight! :D means I can't start writing till the day after the day after :( awwwoh x[ sowwwwwy


	18. Chapter 18

**Uuuuhhh sooo dead right now, need sleeeeeeep T^T got back at 1 AM and now I'm writing a chappy for you guys. I'm almost too nice. **

**+ there was this really hot security guard at the metal concert 8)**

**JEALOUS? :D**

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Grunt, "Have you got it yet?" Breathless exhales, "Claire?"

"In a second!" She yelled.

"Your shoe is digging into my hand!"

"You'll heal! Shut up!"

"You shut up!"

Groan, "I've only got _one_!"

"That's plenty, just hurry up!"

She punched in the familiar number of her father into her phone and hit dial. After Sylar had gotten back, they had discovered Claire's precious little white reception bars had completely disappeared, much to their dismay. So, they opted for getting reception the old fashion way. Claire standing on Sylar's hands while she supported herself against their bedroom wall waving her phone this way and that like a lunatic. Sylar had told her to take her shoes off, but she was just so damn excited she couldn't sit still long enough to complete that task.

Sylar groaned loudly, and Claire rolled her eyes mockingly.

"I thought you were strong." She said with a smile that made him bunch his eyebrows together in annoyance.

"I am! But you know, holding up one hundred pounds for half an hour by your hands, with you moving every two seconds and walking forty times the diameter of the room kinda wears you out!"

"…I do not weigh one hundred pounds!"

"Well right now you feel two hundred! Hurry up!"

She smacked him on top of the head and poked her tongue out at him when he looked up at her.

"Hello?" A crackled voice answered on the other end.

"Dad!" Claire yelled, hoping he could hear her.

"Claire!" Her father's voice cracked and crunched but was decipherable.

"Where are you? Mack got us!"

"I'm in thi-…Ma- how did he-…past Sylar-…where are y-…" Her father's voice remained quiet after that.

"I didn't understand that! … Dad? … Dad?" But there was no answer, "Damnit!"

"What?" Sylar asked from below her.

"Cut out." She sighed.

When she said the words, Sylar immediately dropped his hands and let her fall to the ground, only steadying her with his hands on her hips.

She wobbled a bit but regained her composure, "Thanks." She said, not looking at him.

Sylar dropped his hands when he thought she was steady enough.

"What did he say?" He asked, placing his hands on his hips and puffing slightly.

"I couldn't make out what he was saying. It kept cutting out." Claire replied and looked forlornly at her not-so-trusty-anymore pink phone.

"Don't worry, we still have plan B." Sylar smiled and she looked up with a deadpan expression.

"I can't believe that's _even _a plan." She said.

"Well Mack wants you and I'm the only that has you. Sounds fool-proof to me." He told her with a smile.

She rolled her eyes at his wording, like _he _was the one that owned her.

"We'll go over the details tonight. I'm tired and hungry now." She said.

"You want to go out to eat?" Sylar asked a little too quickly.

Claire paused and just looked into his eyes for a second, "Whatever you want." She told him sincerely.

"I asked you." He was atleast trying to keep the mood light, but her staring and knowing gaze was making it extremely difficult.

"I don't mind."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't mind."

"You think I'm avoiding."

Silence.

Sigh.

"You don't understand, Claire." He nearly whispered and shook his head sadly.

"Because you won't let me." She whispered to him.

"I tried to explain…" His voice lowered to match hers.

"No, you've never explained anything to me."

"Because you've seen things that are self-explanatory! What more do you want?" His voice was now slightly raised, breaking the even silence in the room.

She didn't want to tell him she wanted him to open up to her. She didn't want to be nosy or come off too strong or anything. She also did want him to know she was fond of him and interested.

Claire didn't say anything – she couldn't. She just shook her head fake-cheerfully and smiled with one breathless laugh. She walked out of the room.

"Oh, c'mon Claire!" She heard Sylar jog after her till he caught up to her at the bottom of the steps.

He grabbed her elbow and spun her around to face him, her eyes carefully stoic and his almost worried.

"I just don't know what to tell you." He whispered to her finally.

"Anything." She whispered back.

"Anything like what? That I don't like chocolate ice cream? That I've never owned a TV? That my favourite candy is skittles? What do you want to hear? Because I don't know." He said and held her eyes.

Claire opened her mouth to speak, to say something comforting to him, something that would make him feel better and not to worry about the little things and say whatever came to his mind and that she would listen to whatever he had to say, when the front door burst open.

"We're baa_aa_ck!" Sandra called through the open door as soon as she opened it, "Oh you're right there! You must've seen us pull in." She smiled and hefted a heavy suitcase off the porch and on the one step it took to enter the house, "Oof! That's heavy, Sylar would you take that, hun?"

Sylar immediately went forward to help her with the suitcase. It was familiar, he knew it before he even touched it. Ofcourse, nothing in this place had a memory attached to it, nothing has been used before. But it wasn't his power that flooded his mind with memories when he touched the familiar suitcase. The rough, dark green fabric of the body and the worn brown leather of the handle brought back images he would much rather forget. After all, the suitcase did belong to his very dead, yet alive mother.

"Gabriel!" An excited woman said from the porch.

Sylar squeezed his eyes shut briefly at the name and at the woman who said it before opening them and plastering on a smile just for show.

"Hi Mom." He could've said it a little more enthusiastically but he was just waiting for the moment she pulls out the knife.

She embraced him while he wrapped the arm that wasn't holding a suitcase around her.

"I've missed you, son." She pulled back and took his face between her hands. He'd always hated it when she did that, but had forgotten what it felt like after a while.

"Oh, Virginia! Stop babying the boy! We need to get dinner started or we're going to go hungry." Sandra walked past and said, flicking her wrist at Sylar's mother. Virginia laughed it off and followed Sandra as she moved to the kitchen.

"Actually we were just going to get some takeout tonight, what does everyone like?" Claire spoke up from her place next to her father just outside on the porch.

"Oh, well isn't that nice." Virginia said from the kitchen.

"I don't know about you ladies, but I could really go for a steak and gravy." Noah suggested as he walked into the house with Claire at his side.

"No Noah! Get Thai or something, anything but steak." Sandra said and gave him a look.

"What do you want Mom?" Sylar asked his mother.

Claire watched him ask and swallow a lump in his throat as he waited for an answer.

"Um, I think I'll go with Thai food, what about you Claire darling?" She directed her gaze towards Claire.

"Thai it is then." Claire cheerily concluded.

"K, we'll be back in a bit." Sylar said and carefully placed the suitcase at the bottom of the stairs.

"Where are the keys?" Claire asked him and held out her hand.

Sylar barked a laugh and dug them from his front pocket, "You're not driving." He told her and moved around her.

Claire made a face at him and they waved everyone goodbye before shutting the door behind them.

"We really need to get out of here," Sylar said as soon as they entered his most prized possession, "And I _really _hate this car."

"It's cute, and why do we need to get out of here?" She asked, confused at his urgency.

Sylar gave her a look that one might give a mutant baby, "Oh God, you're not a copy-Claire are you? Because that would just be fan_tastic_."

Claire rolled her eyes, "No, I'm not a copy-"

"That's exactly what a copy would say." Sylar eyed her suspiciously.

She rolled her eyes even more dramatically, "What's the sudden rush though?"

"_Sudden _rush?" He glanced away from the road to look at her genuine expression for a second, "Baby, I've been rushing to go as soon as we landed in this hole."

She decided to change the topic, "So…your mom…" Claire trailed off and gave him an innocent/smiley expression when he looked at her.

"She's nothing like my mother." He said simply.

"How do you know that? She was there for less than five minutes." She wondered, raising an eyebrow.

"My mom doesn't like Thai food." He replied, keeping his eyes on the road.

Claire's mouth made a small 'o' as she realised. "Smart." She complimented.

Sylar looked at her with a grateful smug look and breathlessly laughed once.

Things were silent for a while, Sylar concentrating on the road and Claire concentrating on him. He was a really smart guy, well ofcourse he was, considering his ability. But he was also incredibly stupid. Didn't he see that she wanted him to open up to her? To confide in her just like friends would? …Unless, he didn't see them as friends but merely as colleagues… which clenched her heart and made her feel a little uneasy for some reason. But, ofcourse he saw them as friends, even before he changed his ways he was deluded into thinking they had a friendship, but now she can return the feelings.

Time had passed, maybe close to half an hour. She hadn't realised how much she liked car drives until she shared them with Sylar. She didn't know why, she had always hated drives with her mom, hated _hated _them with her father, but with Sylar, there just wasn't anything to hate about them.

"Do you have any idea where you're going?" She asked.

"Nope."

They both laughed.

* * *

"We just passed the three hour mark." Angela informed him, yet again.

"Yes, thankyou Angela." He replied, yet again.

No one spoke after that, at least not for a while before Noah's phone began to buzz.

"It's probably my assistant wondering where I am…" He struggled the phone out of his pocket and looked at the front screen, his brows furrowed, he flipped it open, "Hello?"

"Dad!" He barely heard on the other end.

"Claire!" So it really was her and wasn't his mind playing tricks on him. Angela's head whipped round in confusion and curiosity.

"Where are you? Mack got us!" Claire said, he could barely hear her! It wasn't particularly broken up or the line wasn't static, it was just extremely quiet. His car engine was louder than her voice.

"I'm in this little town," He said hurriedly, that wasn't as big of a deal as the mention of Mack's name, "Mack! How did he get past Sylar? Where are you?"

"I didn't understand that! … Dad? … Dad?" He heard her panic.

"Claire!" He yelled, only after the line went dead. "Damnit!" He swore.

"That was Claire?" Angela asked, her eyes never leaving Noah's.

"Yeah…Mack managed to get away from Sylar and now he's got them." He said and almost broke his phone as he grasped it.

"Where?" She asked, fighting for poise.

"I don't know. _Now _do you think it's a good time to call Peter?" If she refused, he was going to kick her posh ass out of this car and leave her in this place.

She sighed, "I think now would be a good time to call Peter." She said like it was her idea.

* * *

"You know Sylar won't stop till you're dead, right?" Andrew asked from his position at the fridge, hunting down two beers for himself and his 'friend' Mack.

"Sylar will be taken care of. Don't you worry." Mack replied and chuckled.

Andrew's eyebrows raised, "You're what? Going to kill him? Kill _Sylar_?" He asked disbelievingly.

Mack looked at him for a paused second, "Your lack of faith in me is most…concerning, Andrew."

Andrew gulped, "I didn't mean anything by it. It's just…Sylar is more powerful than anyone, and it's not like it's an easy task to kill him. More people than I would care to count have tried and failed."

"_I _am more powerful than that brat. Besides, who ever said anything about killing him? I'm going to make him suffer for the rest of his very long life." Mack took his beer and laughed as he took a sip.

Andrew felt like telling Mack he wasn't more powerful than Sylar, but that would probably get him killed. He didn't like this anymore. He didn't want it; he didn't want Mack in his or his daughter's lives.

"What's your plan anyway? How is making them a married couple with a house and everything supposed to make them drift apart?" Andrew asked as nonchalantly as he could.

"I told you, Andrew, I need time to plan. Having them in the same place is a bonus, but my point is, I'm showing Sylar what he wants – but is never going to have. His idea of suffering is much different to anyone else's. I could slice him into fillets all day if I wanted, but in his mind, this is worse. Plus, neither of them is ready for married life. The responsibilities will drag them apart on their own." He took a long gulp of beer.

"And Claire? She's already said she doesn't want you." Andrew thought he might take offence to that, but Mack simply laughed it off.

"She'll choose me. I can give her everything. She's a young girl, she wouldn't be able to resist a pretty diamond or an expensive car."

"…And if she does?"

"Well, she won't, but, in the off chance she does refuse, I'll take her by force. See, that's the thing with women, Andrew, you have to tell them what to do, it keeps them busy and reinforces your higher status. I don't know why you didn't just give your ex-wife a smack to let her know her place and dragged her into bed to finish it off." Mack said and took another gulp of beer.

Andrew looked at Mack with furrowed brows for a second till Mack realised Andrew was starting at him and looked back, "I didn't hit my wife because I love her." He said hard and defensively.

Mack watched confusedly as Andrew more or less slammed his beer on the balcony railing and left it there to stomp into the house.

"Dramatic fool." Mack said into the air and took another sip of beer.

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My back hurts like hell.

**Omg, karate kid (the one with Jaden Smith and Jackie Chan in it) pwns noobs. Just sayin.**

**I'm getting slower and slower with the updating! ARGH! DX but it's Christmas season! Let me enjoyyyy! :D**


	19. Chapter 19

**So, reviews are becoming less and less frequent :/ is the story not to your liking? Discontinue? Your reviews are literally what keeps me writing. :| and if the reviews stop…**

**:) but I love you.**

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"Daddy?" The girl asked, whispering into the darkness as she lay on her bed.

"Shh, baby. Come with daddy." Her father said, his hands removing her blankets from her and pulling her into his arms.

"Where are we going?" She whispered in his ear.

"Well, right now we're going to get your sisters. Then we're going on a long vacation. Wouldn't that be fun, huh?" He replied in whispered enthusiasm, despite the opposite emotion he was feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"But what about school?" She asked, confused with her father.

"Chloe, shh, I'll explain everything when we're on the road." He lay his hand on the back of her head as he shuffled to the next room.

He bent down and shook the small girl gently which she groaned at, "Ella." The girl opened her eyes at the sound of her father's voice.

"Daddy? What-"

"Shh, come with me." He hurriedly grabbed her hand and moved across the room to the baby bed, "Sophie, honey." His third and last daughter blinked and smiled at him, he smiled back and replaced his hold of Chloe with her. "Ok, girls, quickly."

He made his two eldest hold his hand in a sort of train formation while his youngest wrapped her arms around his neck while being supported with the other hand.

He moved them quietly through the house and out the front door to where he parked the car on the curb after returning from Mack's house. He knew that was the last straw for him.

After buckling all three in their appropriate seating gear, he shoved the suitcases he packed earlier and left next to the car in the trunk. After slamming the trunk a bit too loudly for his comfort and paranoia, he jumped in the driver's seat and slammed on the pedal. He looked in the rear view mirror at his kids' faces as the sped down the street.

* * *

Failing to find a Thai restaurant, or even a Chinese one, they decided to give up and buy frozen pizza from the supermarket.

"But I don't like pepperoni either…"

He rolled his eyes and put back the pepperoni, "Ok, I give up, which _one _pizza flavour do you like?" He asked.

She giggled, "Hawaiian." She said innocently and blinked up at him.

He clicked his fingers, "That would've been my next guess."

She laughed, "Yeah, right."

He opened the freezer door for the fourth time and picked up two Hawaiian pizzas, "Ok, let's go."

They turned and walked the distance to the checkout, "Hi." A tall brunette said, looking only at Sylar as he placed their pizzas on the conveyer belt.

Claire and Sylar both greeted with a 'hey' as Claire stared and Sylar pulled a twenty out of his wallet.

"How are you tonight?" She asked, again not looking at Claire.

"Fine. Yourself?" Sylar replied and smiled at her. Claire rolled her eyes and didn't bother answering, it was clear the sexy brunette had no interest in what she had to say.

She giggled and pressed some buttons on her touch screen, "Not too busy."

Sylar said nothing but smiled as he handed her the twenty. She gave him ten dollars change and made sure their hands touched when she handed him the plastic bag of pizzas.

"You live round here?" She asked just as they were about to leave.

Claire rolled her eyes more obvious than she would've liked, but it's not like the brunette or Sylar were looking at her anyway.

"Yeah, about ten minutes." He replied, and when he did, her eyes widened.

"Oh my God! Me too!" She laughed and placed a hand on her chest.

"Oh my God." Claire said under her breath, but obviously not quite enough because the checkout chick flickered her eyes to her briefly with a not-too-pleasant expression before her eyes brightened at Sylar.

"So…are you single?" She asked flirtatiously, batting her eyelashes and giggling like a high-pitched school girl.

Sylar chuckled, "Nope. Married." He held up his wedding band hand briefly before dropping it around Claire's shoulders, "Bye." He said abruptly before turning them around and walk in the other direction.

Claire caught a glimpse of her offended face before she was turned around with Sylar's arm around her shoulders.

"Jeez, why didn't you just get her number?" She said when they were on the escalator travelling down to the car park.

This made Sylar laugh, "Are you kidding me? She was creepy." He said.

She nudged him in the side, "I could see you flirting with her." She teased and eyed him knowingly.

He laughed again, "I was _not _flirting, I was being polite."

"Sure, Sylar." She smiled.

"And besides, I'm into blondes." He said, she smiled up at him with a 'yeah, nice try' expression and laughed him off.

They reached their car and she dropped Sylar's arm off from around her shoulders and took the bag from him, "Hey, me too." She said smugly and climbed in the car.

Sylar laughed in a 'you smartass' kind of way and got in the other side. A comfortable silence fell over them and Claire basked in it before she asked, "Why did you tell her we're married?" She looked at him just in time to see him furrow his eyebrows for a second.

"Because we are…" He said simply and took the time to look at her for a moment.

"Not really…" She said quieter than before.

He smiled slightly and raised an eyebrow, "Claire, look at the third finger on your left hand." He instructed quietly.

She looked up for a second then tilted her head to look at the gold ring with a clear cut diamond in the centre, so modern yet so traditional.

"Now, did I buy you that ring?" He asked.

"I _guess _so…" She answered, confused by the technicality of it.

"And did I get down on one knee and declare my undying love for you when I asked you to make me the happiest man in the world?" He asked with a smile and an amused face as he put his hand on his chest.

Claire rolled her eyes at his dramatics, "My god, I get it. We're married here." She laughed.

He laughed as did she.

She pictured their wedding day, she's always wanted a beach wedding…in Hawaii maybe. Her in a plain but elegant white dress, a shy smile on her face as she walked down the aisle. She would have three bridesmaids dressed in a light blue that matched the ties of the groomsmen. Her father would give her away reluctantly but with a smile to her fiancée as he shed invisible tears of joy. Her fiancée, her groom, her love, waiting for her with nervous pride. In her daydream, the man waiting at the altar for her had Sylar's face, the smiling face he pulled everyday when he saw her. Something in her stomach and chest dropped. It was a positive sensation, like a weight being lifted off your shoulders, not the drop you feel when you're faced with your fate. She hadn't felt it before, it was an unrecognisable emotion, and because of that, she knew what it was.

* * *

"Mom?" Peter asked through the phone, just getting back from an all night shift.

"Peter, listen to me, this is very important. It's about Claire." Angela said more rushed than she would've liked.

Peter's throat dried, "She hasn't been here in days, but I thought that was because she's on a mission with Sylar…what's going on?"

He heard his mother hesitate, the anticipation growing in his throat every millisecond she was silent, "She was kidnapped."

Peter felt his face drain of blood and warmth, "But she's with Sylar…" He said as if it was self explanatory.

"Sylar wasn't good enough this time."

"But he's the strongest special we know!" He raised his voice slightly, feeling quite offended on behalf of his enemy-turned-best friend.

"He's with Claire and we don't know where they are." Her voice shook.

"Put me onto Noah, Mom." Peter requested softly. He heard slight fumbling on the other end of the phone and waited.

"Peter." He heard Noah say.

Peter sighed, "What's the plan, Noah?"

He was always the 'man with the plan', "Well, the plan is for you to contact Matt about it and see if he knows anything or has heard anything through work, and if that fails, we're going to have to get Molly involved." He said quickly, now in Company mode.

"We can't get Molly involved, she'll be too scared. Matt still doesn't like the idea of a reformed-Sylar, but he'll do it if I ask him and because Claire's involved. I'll make the call." He stared at his front door, legs trembling with want to burst through it and search for two of his closest friends and kill the man that did this.

"Thanks, Peter." Noah said after a pause.

"Wait, Noah!" He waited for a response to know the older man hadn't hung up.

"Yeah?"

Peter sighed in relief, "Who kidnapped them?"

Noah swallowed, "A man named Macky Lorenzo Wiberlley."

Peter paused for what seemed like forever before a mocking smile broke out on his face, "A dude called _Macky Lorenzo Wiberlley _kidnapped Sylar?" He asked almost disbelievingly.

Noah rolled his eyes at Peter and Sylar's identical reaction to the guy's name, "Yes, Peter, that's not important though. Call Matt." And the phone went dead.

Peter laughed, just once before he punched in Matt's number. He is never _ever _going to let Sylar live this down, even if it means taking Claire's ability, Sylar will be reminded of this constantly. Which he was quite looking forward to.

"Matt Parkman speaking." Matt greeted like he would any other caller.

"Matt, it's me." Peter told him.

"Oh, hey Peter. What's up?" Matt asked as he wrote another sentence of an old, unfiled report for the police station. Even though he didn't work there anymore, he still liked to feel as if he was useful while his son was napping.

"Matt, this is an emergency." Peter said hurriedly.

Matt put his pen down and furrowed his brows at the adjacent wall, "Peter, what's going on?"

"Claire and Sylar are missing."

Matt's eyes widened, "You think Sylar could've…" He let it hang in the air.

Peter caught onto what he was saying immediately, "No! He wouldn't do that! Besides-"

"He is a serial killer, Peter. It's not that uncommon for one to relapse after some time on the wagon-"

"We know who took them!"

"Wait wait, now they're _kidnapped_? I thought you said they were just missing." This situation was becoming more bizarre to Matt.

He heard Peter sigh in frustration and run a hand down his face, "They have been kidnapped and are therefore missing. What I was going to say before was we know who took them."

Matt's fingers immediately went to the keyboard of his computer, "What's his name?"

"Macky Lorenzo Wiberlley." Peter said, and under any normal circumstances, he would've laughed.

"…Seriously?" Matt asked but typed in the name anyway.

The results came up immediately. Company and Police files filled the screen.

"Wow…" Matt said, more to himself, but Peter heard.

"What is it?"

"This guy is sick." His eyes scanned the screen.

"What does it say, Matt?" Peter had half a mind to fly to the other side of town to just read the damn file himself.

"Well, there's not much on his police record, just a page full of assault and battery against women, torture with intent to kill and suspicion of kidnapping back in the fifties…"

"How is that 'not much'?" Peter asked, surprised Matt would say that.

"Because I'm looking at his Company file, and it's so much worse." Matt said as his eyes continued to skim read the digital paper displayed in front of him.

"…Worse how?" Peter asked and this time his body started trembling.

* * *

"Finally! We're all starving! What took you so long?" Sandra exclaimed from the kitchen as soon as the couple walked through the front door.

"Hope you don't mind pizza, couldn't find a Thai restaurant…" Claire told the three sitting and leaning on the bench tops of the kitchen, sipping wine.

"Oh, that's fine honey, let me just pop them in the oven while you all go relax on the couch." Sandra offered and she gently took the bag from Claire and smiled approvingly at their flavour choices.

Without another word, Virginia and Noah moved from their places and walked to the living room where they sat on opposite sides. Sylar and Claire looked at each other and stiffly walked to sit on the loveseat in between the two, their eyes glancing around the room awkwardly.

After about fifteen seconds, Claire broke the silence with her bubbly voice, "So, Dad, how's work?" Was he still in the company?

Noah Bennet Leaned forward on his chair with a smile and opened his mouth to speak when Virginia interrupted with a disgusted noise, "You're still not doing that are you, Noah?" She asked, looking disappointed. A face Sylar has seen all too often.

"Yes as a matter of fact I am, been head of my department for over twenty years." He spoke solely to Sylar's mom, obviously offended.

"It's bad enough that you're in that line of work, but to get my son and my beautiful daughter-in-law in it too…and how about last week when you were saying you're going to get Gabriel and Claire's children in that business too!" She ended with an unbelieving and disgusted noise.

All the while Sylar and Claire choked on imaginary food blocking their airways at the mention of her and Sylar's _children_.

Sylar coughed one last time, "Our _children_?" He asked disbelievingly, his eyes darting between the two, "We don't have any!" A few seconds of silence went past before he leaned closely to Claire and whispered, "Do we?"

"No!" Claire smacked him on the front of his shoulder before stopping to consider, "…I think…" She added with uncertainty.

"Well when Claire has the baby I'll be damned before he or she's ability manifests only at the strain of the company!" Virginia nearly yelled at Noah.

"It's called unlocking potential!" Noah yelled back at her, his face contorting into an almost scary expression.

Virginia stood and pointed a clawed finger at Noah, her eyes focused and determined, ready to present her case finally.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Claire stood between the two, her hands toward them as if she had Sylar's ability and was forcing them to stay where they were, "I'm _pregnant_?" Claire screeched, not sounding at all like herself.

Virginia and Noah furrowed their brows at each other before looking back at Claire, "Claire, honey, are you feeling alright?" Her father asked her.

Claire turned her half offended and half angry face towards her father, "I'm feeling fan_tastic_!"

Virginia left the scene and walked to somewhere noticed only by Sylar, all the while casting worried glances back at Claire. Sylar had the urge to go after her, find her and ask her the many questions that have been swimming in his mind since he laid eyes on her healthy form when she appeared on his doorstep, but decided against it. Claire was more important to him now. And he had serious concerns about her mental well-being at the moment in time.

Claire was hyperventilating by the time Virginia reappeared, Sandra hot on her heels, a wide smile spread across the Southerner's face.

Virginia walked straight up to Claire's side and waved a small photograph in front of her, Claire's eyes skimmed it a couple of times before her mind actually registered what it was. She zoned in on it and tentatively took it from her mother-in-law's hand. Sylar was only morbidly curious so he stood, towering over the shorter girls and had a clear view of the black and white ultrasound picture with a white mass in the centre.

"Holy shit." Claire and Sylar whispered in unison, each earning a light smack from their mothers.

"We _really _have to get out of here." Sylar said, not caring if his 'family' heard.

But Claire didn't respond. Her attention was on the photograph of the baby that wasn't growing in her womb, but in this world…was it? If Mack decided to keep her here for another year…would she be a mother by the time he let her go? _With Sylar's child? _The mere thought of them two making love, almost brought tears to her eyes, because the Claire in this world must've known this would be the outcome. But at the same time, she and Sylar were in love. They were _married _for God's sake! Surely Mack hadn't done any research on the stages of foetal development to mimic the development and birth of a _child_! …But is that what he did with Andrew? She and Sylar knew Andrew's children were the outcome of Mack's illusion, and not really _his _kids. But in order for Andrew to feel like he was their father, he had to have raised them and changed their diapers and went through the pregnancy with his wife, right? Maybe Mack knew more than he was letting on. She didn't want to have a baby. She didn't care if it was with Sylar or not, although that thought brought her a strange sense of comfort and familiarity and gladness, she just wasn't ready for the responsibilities as a parent. Was Sylar? He was older and smarter and wiser than her and probably everything else, and she definitely saw him being a father one day, but now? She doesn't think so. Although it is said, when a woman gets pregnant unexpectedly and she decides to keep her unborn gift from God, everything changes. The maternal instinct within every woman let's itself free and that woman is able to enjoy and handle motherhood. She didn't have a doubt in her mind that she was one of these women, but…there is nothing in this world for her. And if she gives birth, the love she would feel for that child would overthrow anything else according to every morally stable mother on the planet, and she wouldn't want to leave. She would _beg _Mack to let her stay…oh crap.

Sylar watched Claire's brain work. He had no doubt she was thinking of the unborn child…_his _unborn child, the future, Mack's plan, him. She was just that type of person that thoroughly examined every aspect of a possible predicament or problem. He did also, but he was a little more logical about it. He carefully dissected every area of the situation and formulated plans and procedures best suited to the complication. But somewhere in his mind, its core was refusing to communicate messages back to him. Not having the brainpower for higher thought at this time. He didn't want to think of this make-believe baby as his first born child. His miracle. If this were the real world, he would've acted entirely differently, but his defences refused to be drawn into the surrealism of the moment and therefore his brain hadn't produced many of the inner thoughts Claire was no doubt having. He knew – had always known that he would never be blessed with kids or a loving family, and that perception had burned itself into his brain and guarded it like the border in between Korea.

The mere seconds that had passed in the time it took to conjure these thoughts, Sandra had said "Oh, I just love your first ultrasound picture, Claire!"

Claire nodded absently and sadly as she ripped her eyes, with great mental strain, away from the photograph. She handed it back to Virginia without looking at her.

"You look sad." Her father observed.

Claire looked at him, wide-eyed, "No, I don't." She said quickly.

Noah briefly pointed to her face, "You're crying."

Claire smiled and breathlessly laughed just once after a second's hesitation, "Tears of joy." She looked at the three scrutinising eyes. Only one pair didn't make contact with hers, but were cast to the floor, brows furrowed as if bearing the responsibility of life in the world.

"Oh, now I'm in the mood for pictures!" Sandra screeched and balled her fists in front of her as she shook with excitement, her overly curly blonde hair bouncing and shivering as she did.

"Claire, where's that _wonderful _photo album you showed us last time we came, what? Three years ago? It was incomplete back then but you did promise it would be finished by our next visit." Virginia said and gave her a suggestive smile, wanting to see the album.

The album they spoke of…was the one she found in the corner of her shelf? It must be…it seemed like something her mother would get excited over.

"I'll just go get it. It's on the shelf in the bedroom, Sylar would you come and get it for me? I can't reach." She asked him quietly and quite disconnectedly, but not more so than him. He followed her like a robot up the stairs and into their room.

They entered and Sylar sighed, almost angrily.

"That guy is really testing my patience." He spoke more to himself, his voice coming out in an angry breath.

"Same." Claire spoke more calmly than he, which confused him, she was the one pregnant here.

"I would've thought you would be angrier about this…" Because it's my child you're carrying, your tormenter, reason for suffering, and also because it was Mack's doing.

"Why would I?" She asked, poking around her closet for the leather bound album. She was trying very hard to hide it, and so far Sylar hasn't seemed to detect her extreme uncomfortableness, which should be put in the Guinness Book of Records.

Sylar stopped his movement and faced her back and placed his hands on his hips, "Because you're pregnant." He said simply, what else would he be talking about?

Claire hoisted the photo keeper into her arms and swayed a little at its weight but steadied herself, she coolly half-turned to Sylar with a smug/sarcastic look on her face, the same one he gives her every day and said, "We should be equally freaking out, you're pregnant too remember." She rolled her eyes.

"Well I'm pretty sure I'm doing more freaking out than you over here…" He told her seriously, he hardly thought now was the time to crack funny remarks and mock him.

Claire rolled her eyes, "It's not real Sylar." She reminded him again in another dire situation, he really wasn't faring well when it came to deep, personal, inner quarrels that she could see bursting through his chest.

"It felt real." He said quietly, not breaking eye contact with her. The weight of the statement wasn't lost on her; they both knew they felt something downstairs, probably equal emotions flowing between them like a river around rocks.

She stared back at him hard and soft at the same time, "But it's not. So it's best not to read too much into it." She swallowed the same time he did, giving each other the same look, "Let's go downstairs and get this night over with. I'm tired." She didn't wait for a reply. She brushed past him and he closed his eyes as she did, feeling they had both given up on the situation, but he followed shortly after her.

Claire plastered a smile on her face, although she felt like dumping the album into her mother's hands and stomping back up the stairs, but this reality was so determined, so placid when it didn't involve the manifestation of Mack that she couldn't ruin the evening – even though it had already been ruined and trampled and stomped on in Sylar's opinion.

"Oh, it's a lot fuller than it was before." Virginia said to the couple who had just entered the living room.

Claire giggled, "I've done a lot of work on it." She said, taking it as a compliment.

"I can see!" She laughed as she replied.

Claire carefully set it down on the dark wooden coffee table in the centre of the room and everyone knelt before and around it.

Sandra apparently couldn't hold her excitement in for as soon as Noah had stiffly kneeled beside her, she flipped the album open to the first page.

There were no photographs, only a piece of paper.

_CERTIFICATE OF MARRIAGE_, it read. Claire and Sylar glanced at each other from either side of Sylar's mom. It read _Gabriel Gray _and _Claire Bennet _popping out among the text. Claire skimmed over the details, her eyes being drawn to the two signatures authenticating the certificate at the bottom. It had Sylar's signature on the left, neat and obviously left-handed, and then it had Claire's, _C. Gray_.

Sylar had read the surname of the people's signature at the bottom of the page as the first thing he did. Claire Gray. He knew it! For some reason he felt greatly satisfied and pleased at that.

The next page that was opened was a picture of Claire, Sylar, Sandra, Noah and Lyle. Taken somewhere bright and outdoors, obviously not a professional shoot because the angle was very typical of someone who had no photography skills, but it was pleasant. They were all smiling, arms around the next person's shoulders standing in front of a huge rock with people walking in the background. The naturalness and simplicity of it made Claire smile and admire the picture.

The two mothers made fleeting comments and compliments that had entered one ear and out the other with Sylar. The picture, and more sure to come, made him hurt. Made him long for what wasn't real and what hadn't happened in real life. He could appreciate the photographs with their scenic backgrounds and cheery faces, but to actually stand and pose like that in real life – it was unfathomable to him. He looked at Claire to gauge her reaction, hers seemed to be the opposite of his though, she was all smiles and giggles along with the other women.

Sandra skipped a few pages which Claire nearly yelled at her for, wanting to go back and look at every picture in the oversized album. But she held her tongue.

"Ah, I remember that one, that's when you two had just started dating." Sandra said lovingly at the couple in the photo.

They were kissing, in the photo, both their eyes shut and smiling in the kiss. Obviously another home-taken photo for you could see Sylar's arm holding the camera from a vantage point slightly higher than eye level. Claire glanced at Sylar to find him looking away quickly when she did, a blush creeping across his face that surely mirrored hers.

"Ok, ok, next." Noah said, slightly annoyed and forced the page over.

The next picture was innocent, gladly. It was, ofcourse, Sylar and Claire posing with their arms out wide above them surrounded by a winter wonderland. They were dressed in the appropriate snow gear with white all around them and bright reflections in their ski masks, a pair of skis beneath Claire and a snowboard being stepped on by Sylar. A holiday somewhere? Canada maybe?

The next photo that caught her eye, to the side of the snow photo, almost made her cry, laugh and plain giddy. It was a long strip of passport-sized photos taken in an obviously cheap photo booth. Every picture was different, the first few pictures at the top were nice, smiling and loving, but as the photos dragged on, their faces became sillier and sillier which made Claire giggle and think they would _totally _do that if they had the chance, the last picture ending in a kiss.

All this photographic evidence made Sylar's brain search for the memories. But there were none. He could imagine him and Claire skiing somewhere in Canada or maybe in the Alps, but the real memories were not there. The photo booth pictures made Sylar laugh silently and smile affectionately at the silly faces they pulled with seemingly complete comfortableness with each other. He wanted that memory above the others. He wanted that good memory to replace all the horrible ones he knew still plagued Claire's mind. If only life wasn't so cruel though.

More and more pictures were burned into their memories as the pages were continuously turned. All happy pictures of the life they had started together. None of the past, not even a baby picture. It's like that life was irrelevant and had been blocked out – even replaced with these new ones.

The time came when the next picture that invaded Claire's view was her favourite, the first one she saw in this album – the one of them dancing. She smiled brightly and looked at Sylar for a moment to see his curious eyes scan over the photo. She couldn't see anyone she knew in the background, the only face familiar to her was Sylar's. And that didn't disappoint her.

Claire was half-way through the album and looking forward to viewing the rest when her mother announced she was tired from the day's busyness and needed sleep or she'd faint where she had moved to the couch. They decided to call it a night, much to Claire's disappointment and despite her complaining protests.

She shut the album for what would probably be the last time, which saddened her. All these memories were cherished in the mind of Mack's Claire. But were newly discovered and adored in the real Claire. They all made their way to their respective rooms after Claire had shown Virginia her guest room (which Claire had surprisingly found on the first try) and bid each other goodnight.

They were both relieved when Sylar shut the door behind them and he sighed, closing his eyes briefly. Claire had already gone to their bathroom and was getting dressed into her summer pyjamas. It was an unexpectedly hot night here in Mackville, which made Claire hate Mack just that little bit more. But just because it was hot, it didn't mean she wanted to slip into a cold, empty bed for another night.

She exited just in time to see Sylar remove his shirt. Her eyes widened and she immediately drew her eyes away, looking at the lamp, the pillow, anything. He unceremoniously chucked it on the floor just outside his closet and entered. When he came back out, he was in a pair of shorts that looked comfortable enough for sleeping.

Claire's fierce blush died down as he started kicking around his floor-bed, making it as appealing as possible before he got in it. But before he got into it, Claire made a split decision that her mind didn't even register, "You don't have to sleep on the floor tonight." She said as nonchalantly as she could manage as she moved to her side of the bed and began pretending to set the alarm clock, having any excuse not to look at him and his ridiculous body.

Sylar seemed taken aback for he didn't respond right away and when he did, it was terribly stuttered, "Are you sure?" He asked.

Claire half-turned and gave him a sarcastic smile, "Uh, yeah." She said like he was a fool.

Sylar made a face and picked all of his blankets and pillows from the floor in one motion, throwing them on the bed before throwing himself on the bed as well.

Claire snorted and shook her head slightly before turning out her lamp, making the room dark except for the dim street lamp and the shallow moon. She cleared her throat as she slid into bed as he was making himself comfortable at the same time.

"Why'd you change your mind?" Sylar asked as they both settled.

"Felt sorry for your spine on the floor." She answered simply, totally not the reason.

A familiar tingle shocked through his nervous system, informing him of her lie and he smirked. A brief pause later he asked, "So it had nothing to do with my half-naked body?"

Claire made an offended noise and he didn't see the pillow coming before it hit him in the face, he laughed it off while she more or less yelled, "No!" Yes.

There was a buzz or a tingle in his mind and he barked out a laugh, "Liar!" He laughed some more.

"I am not!" Tingle, "Shut up!"

His laughing died down and he waited a moment, "You can touch it if you want…" He offered, and this time, a flurry of pillows hit his face, which he laughed at again, "Or we could just spoon…" He offered slyly.

Claire's eyes glared into the darkness and she groaned, frustrated, "I don't want to spoon with you!" She was beginning to regret even inviting him in!

His eyes closed and he smiled when he felt the shudder in the back of his head trail down his back. Liar. "Ok, but if you want to…I'm just sayin'…All you have to do is ask…" He snorted.

"Yeah, don't hold your breath," She thought about this for half a second, "On second thought, please do hold it."

He laughed, "Aw, c'mon Claire, have a little fun." He said.

"My idea of fun _isn't _being in bed with you." She said to him angrily, frustrated with his stupid abilities.

Another tingle and he almost fell out of bed, he wished he had been more specific in his question, then he would know for sure what she wanted from him.

She ripped the blankets off him just for good measure – which only made him laugh, and she wrapped herself in them. Wishing they would hold her back, squeeze her until she became too hot. She could think of a solution to that problem but she'd be damned to hell before she would ask that of stupid, sexy, annoying Sylar.

Sylar gently pulled some blanket back from Claire and settled with a clear of his throat when three, quiet knocks came from the front door. He was certain Claire's ears didn't pick it up, only his ability for super hearing allowed him the opportunity to hear it.

"Someone's at the door." He whispered. She immediately sprung into a sitting position, mouthing 'what?' to him. He put his finger to his lips and beckoned her to come with him. They both creeped out of bed and made quick and silent work of the hallway and stairs.

Sylar stood in front of Claire as he put his eye to the keyhole but could only see the dark of night. A trick of Mack's maybe? They both wondered.

Sylar was contemplating not even opening the door when three slightly louder knocks came from the other side. They looked at each other, and Sylar moved his hand to the doorknob.

He looked at Claire's worried expression as he gently pushed her behind him and turned the knob and wrenched it open.

Both of their eyebrows furrowed and a confused expression consumed their faces as they gazed upon Andrew and his three daughters standing on their doorstep.

"Andrew?" Claire asked quietly, confused as hell.

Andrew only glanced between them for a moment before asking, "May we come in?"

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Holy crud. Soooo long. :) so sorry I haven't updated in like a week, Christmas you know.

**:) I need more reviews of you guys want more chapters! :D srsly :|**

**I kinda like these longer chapters ya know :) but their a bitch to edit cos I don't have a beta and I'm kinda squeezed for time at the moment :P but I'll do it tomorrow morning so no worries :)**

**SO HOT HERE! ARGH! **

**+ smithsbabe hasn't reviwed my last chapter which is kind of weird :S cos she usually is the very very first to review every chapter :/ WHERE ARE YOU? D:**

**Love you all. :) merry xmassss! XD hehehe**


	20. Chapter 20

**Soooo :( not enough people are reviewing! If you're subscribed to my story or favourited, it only takes half a minute, even less, to tell me what you want/think. **

**YYAY! :D starting to get over the festive season and getting into the normal routine of things :P sorry for not updating, but it was Christmas! :D happy new year ;)**

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"…May you come in?" Sylar asked disbelievingly, "No you may not come in!"

"Sylar…" Claire warned in a whisper.

"Claire," Sylar warned equally, "I'm not doing this again." He looked at her with a loaded expression.

Claire swallowed and looked back to Andrew, "What do you want?" She asked, one hundred percent on Sylar's side. Whatever that entailed.

"Well right now, I want to get my children out of the cold weather so they don't get sick." He said, half offended and half angry.

Sylar rolled his eyes, he desperately wanted to say to this man again that his children are just a figure of Mack's imagination, but he held his tongue and moved to the side.

The three girls all stared up at their hosts while they past, an unhappy expression on Sylar's face and a kind one on Claire's. They may not have been real, legal beings, but they were real flesh and blood who had thoughts.

As soon as they entered, Sylar slammed the door – which they all jumped at – and folded his arms across his chest and stared at Andrew, "Ok, you're inside. What do you want?" He glared at him.

Claire sighed and pressed her fingertips to her forehead for a moment at Sylar's hospitality.

Andrew looked into Sylar's eyes and waited a moment before gulping and saying, "First off, I just want to say I'm sorry." He waited again for Sylar's expression to change, but it didn't, "For everything."

Claire was about to say something, no doubt comforting and nice, which Sylar just wasn't in the mood for so he interrupted, "That didn't answer my question. What do you _want_?" He asked with a little more venom.

"I left Mack." He blurted out louder than he had intended in his nervousness.

Claire's eyebrows rose and she stumbled to find words, Sylar on the other hand, stood like stone in a hurricane.

He felt a weak tingle at the back of his head. Perhaps it was just shock or relief or any other emotion, but he opted to blame it on his loyal ability, "Liar." He said.

"I'm not lying! I swear to God!" Andrew flustered, his feathers puffing at the accusation.

"Tell me why you would do that then. Tell me why that was a logical move for you."

Andrew sighed and gripped his daughter's hand tighter, "Mack isn't a good person."

"I'll say." Claire whispered offhandedly.

Andrew decided to ignore her and continue, "He wants to kill you and take Claire, and he doesn't care who gets hurt in the middle."

"Well he's not taking Claire so you have nothing to worry about." Sylar said quite angrily and unfolded his arms, "Since when do you have a conscience? Last time I checked you were in allegiance with Mack and nothing was going to change that! We gave you a chance, and you refused even though you knew Mack's methods and tendencies! Why should we give you another chance?"

Andrew faltered for a moment before turning his eyes to Claire, "Please, just let me explain. I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Just let me put my girls somewhere and we can sit down and talk about this like adults."

Sylar scoffed and Claire bit her lip and looked at him, asking for permission. She didn't want Sylar to become too uncomfortable with this situation; he was crumbling enough as it is.

"Fine." Sylar said and shoved past Andrew and stalked into the living area, carefully dodging the little girl on his right while bumping shoulders with the man.

Andrew wobbled a bit with the force of the action and rolled his eyes, "Is he always that temperamental?" He asked.

Claire laughed quietly and took one of the girls' hands from Andrew, "No." She said sweetly. Surprised that she had. If this were last year, she would've punched Andrew in the face for even mentioning Sylar let alone asking her about his personality – which she has come to grow quite fond of recently. Which surprised her even more.

Sylar sat in the loveseat and took a breath as he heard Claire's shy answer and they made their way up the stairs. He didn't know what to fully expect from Andrew or the entire situation, God knows he wants to kill the guy, but he can't. Claire wouldn't let him, and he wouldn't let himself.

Mere minutes went past and he grew impatient. He was just about to jump off the couch and stomp his way upstairs when they both emerged from the darkness without any children hanging off them.

Claire immediately went and sat beside Sylar on the loveseat, putting him between herself and Andrew, who was sitting on a single in front of them off to the right.

"Ok, now what do you want?" Sylar began and leaned his elbows on his knees with clasped hands.

Claire looked between Andrew and her partner, not daring to speak just yet in the tense atmosphere that had formed like smoke in a car with the windows rolled up.

"I want peace." He said, which they both furrowed their brows at, "I want to live a life with meaning and pleasure. Without having to report to someone who exploits my power and threatens my children. I want to be considered a 'good guy' and someone who isn't helping your company's most wanted."

"How do we know you're not lying to us?" Claire asked after a long moment. Even though she knew perfectly well about Sylar's ability, she needed to hear the honesty in his words.

"I _swear_. Ask me anything about Mack and I'll tell you." He said almost desperately, knowing full well if he couldn't convince them, he would have to make a run for it without any help.

"Tell us about him." Claire said which earned her a confused look from Sylar which she just smiled reassuringly at, "Tell us how he became what he is."

Andrew sighed, "I could show you." He got up and took a step toward them.

"No!" Claire yelled, frightened. She didn't care who Andrew was showing her, she didn't want to see anything from his ability ever again after what happened the last time.

Confused by Claire's outburst and clutching of his arm, Sylar moved swiftly to wrap his arms around her a hold her, "What's wrong?" He asked, not hiding his panic and confusion.

Claire's eyes focused and her head turned to Sylar, who was conveniently placed an inch from her, "Nothing. I just…want to hear it rather than see it." She told him, his breaths tickling her lips in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant.

Claire could say whatever she wanted, but Sylar knew the truth. He knew his past not only haunted his mind now, but also Claire's. And that was something that plagued him more than his memories ever could.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Andrew immediately apologised and slowly sat back onto the couch.

Sylar reluctantly removed his eyes from Claire's beautiful face and turned a venomous expression to Andrew, "Start talking." He said.

Andrew cleared his throat and looked at the floor, away from the couple's oblivious intimacy, "Do you want me to leave or…?" He pointed towards the door.

"Shut up." Sylar told him bordering on embarrassed and removed himself from Claire reluctantly.

"So, about Mack…" Claire said to distract the men, fighting every fibre of her body not to roll her eyes.

"Yes, right," Andrew started, "He was born into a very bad family. Abusive father, insane mother, the works. And that in turn moulded him into the lunatic that he is today. He started out small, setting ants on fire with a magnifying glass, ripping the teacher's paper, pulling the girl that sat in front him in elementary school's hair…juvenile things…" He cleared his throat, "_Then _as he got older…things really went to hell. When I first looked into his past, I saw his father beating his mom to a pulp when Mack was just a kid…after that, his father turned to him and said 'they are not boss, we are'. And at that age, Mack had no idea what it meant till high school when he got his first girlfriend." He looked pointedly at the both of them, his eyes shifting from one pair to the other.

"Oh shit…" Sylar whispered, instantly catching on and he's sure Claire did too for she took in a breath and pressed her hand against the side of his thigh.

Andrew paused, "That woman is blind in one eye now after that night."

Claire gasped and her hand instantly went to her mouth while Sylar cussed about Mack being a bastard and should rot in hell.

"If you knew all this crap about him then why did you join him in the first place?" Sylar asked angrily, not caring that his voice was raised, those sleeping upstairs couldn't hear him. They probably weren't even there.

Andrew sighed, "Can't we just focus on Mack?" He asked seriously.

"No!" Sylar yelled, ending Andrew's hope of deflecting attention from himself.

He sighed, "My wife and I had always wanted kids. More than anything." Already, he had to pause to compose himself, "Our son," He choked slightly, pausing again, "Died of SIDS when he was five months old. He was so beautiful…" He whispered the last part and his strained sobs resulted in a few tears to fall from his glazed and pained eyes before he continued, "I told her we would get through it. I told her we would have more kids, raise them in a loving home in Charlie's memory…" He wiped the back of his hand across his nose and sniffed, "But we didn't have the strength. When I started cleaning out his nursery a year later while she was at work…she came home and packed her things too…" He looked down at the floor, refusing to meet their eyes.

Claire's hand had found its way to rest atop Sylar's thigh while her other hand was covering her mouth at the tragedy. Sylar no longer had an angry expression on his face, but a sad and guilty one. He never wanted Andrew to relive the pain of his loss, that was never his intention.

"I lost my son and my wife in one year…" He finally looked up, "Do you have _any idea _what that feels like?" His chin quivered through the question, making his voice tremble.

They didn't bother answering.

"A few months after she left me, I received Mack's case. Me and one other team were to head out and capture this guy…I had no idea that would be the day that changed my life again." He looked to the ceiling and shook his head forlornly, "When he killed those three men, I saw his power…I saw the possibilities. I traded the use of my ability for a second chance. I asked for my son back, then hopefully my wife would come back…but it only made her hurt worse when I asked. Plus, Mack couldn't bring Charlie back but he could give me another baby…but first he made me promise complete devotion or he'd take her away and he'd kill me. So…I gave it to him." He smiled affectionately, "Then he gave me Chloe…and later Ella and Sophie…and I couldn't have been happier with my life. All I had to do was tell him the history of a certain person and I got to keep my lifestyle."

"I'm very sorry about your son…" Claire said sincerely, "And I'm sorry Mack dragged you into this and promised you your dreams that came with conditions."

Sylar chose not to say anything, he'd probably say something wrong and insulting…and to cause as little pain as possible to good people is what his reformed self promised himself. After all, what could one say to a parent that has experienced the heartbreak of their child's death? There were no words to fix that kind of pain…

"Now can we get back to Mack?" Andrew asked, his façade of being completely over their conversation not quite complete. The pain was still blatantly obvious even to the most unobservant.

"Ofcourse." Claire said sweetly.

"So, after he stabbed his first girlfriend in the eye with a sharpened pencil," Looks of shock and disgust from Sylar and Claire, "He was charged with assault and battery and put on his record, but didn't do jail time because he was underage – 16 at the time. So, the years went on and the charges just kept piling up, mainly abuse against women, which wasn't that uncommon for that era, but was uncommon in the severity of those details. He became extremely anti social and tried to kidnap and torture people and everything else in the devil's handbook…But what he did to those three men was just…" Andrew grimaced and shook his head while the others waited patiently, "He tore them apart…literally. He ripped them to shreds…I don't know how but…"Andrew was disgusted enough with the mental image that he had to stop there and rub his forehead, trying to ease its pain.

"Why is he obsessed with Claire?" Sylar asked gently, the complete polar opposite to what he was actually feeling.

Andrew chuckled darkly, "He'd heard of the regenerating girl named Claire Bennet and planned to meet you for a while now…"

"How did he hear about me?" Claire asked, puzzled.

"From me ofcourse."

Sylar rolled his eyes, "Ofcourse."

"Mack made me do a background check on Noah Bennet and the most significance in his life revolves around you, Claire. You and his work. After that, he's been looking for you." He told Claire.

They all paused, the silence allowing them time to take in everything Andrew had said and ponder their next move.

Mack was sicker than Sylar thought. He was ten times worse than he had been in the past in his opinion. Mack didn't seem to have a method to his madness other than consistent factor being madness. He was insane if he thought he was ever going to get Claire to choose him over the obviously better choice of the man sitting next to her on the couch. Sylar's only problem was figuring out a way to get out of this domestic hell and kill Mack at the same time. Something he could really use some help on.

Claire wasn't thinking so much of Mack as she was about Andrew. The sheer turmoil he has had to face in his young life has left her heart aching for a hug or some sort of affection. She was tearing up at the sight and sound of the crumbling man in front of her. Mack was definitely going to pay for all the pain he has caused to Andrew…to Sylar… her heart yearned more for Sylar though, her and him having a colourful history and all. Mack wasn't doing anything to her…wasn't showing her her faults and past mistakes and crushing events. She knew that was because he didn't want her to hate him for it…but the pain he has caused Sylar has been enough to make up for that and then some.

Slow, loud claps came from the darkness of the dining room behind them. They all whipped their heads around to see a short figure emerge from the darkness.

"Finally, Andrew. Thought you were never going to shut your trap." His smile would only be synonymous with the devil's.

* * *

"I usually don't swear, but this guy is really fucked up." Peter said after reviewing Mack's file one more time.

"Couldn't of said it better myself." Matt said distractedly, no doubt thinking about the fight he had with Janice just before he left. He had told her that he had urgent work to do, which she would then cut him off saying he didn't even work, which he would reply with the lack of details about 'special' company work…and the list just went on and on.

So now, he and Peter were on their way to Pratt to meet Noah and Angela. The problem was, even they didn't know where they were. So what Noah had suggested they do is follow the directions given to Claire and Sylar at the beginning of their mission and somehow figure it out from there. Real elaborate plan.

"God," Peter whispered with a shake of the head, "Why would Noah give Claire and Sylar a high risk assignment when they've never even worked together before?" He ran a hand through his hair while keeping his eyes on the road.

"Well, it _is _Sylar, so maybe he thought he could handle it, I don't know. What's important is that we get them both back safely while avoiding this Macky guy and getting our asses outta there as quick as possible." Matt said, looking at his phone screen only to discover he had no missed calls or even a text from Janice.

"Sylar won't go that easily." Peter said, almost amused. The others had to have known that right?

Matt finally looked over to Peter, "And why not?"

Peter looked back at Matt with an 'are you serious?' smile, "Maybe because Macky has _kidnapped _him and there's no way he's gonna stand for that. Not the Sylar I know." He laughed.

Matt laughed as normally as he could, trying not to make it awkward. He hadn't made it any secret that he wasn't 100% convinced with the 'new' Sylar. Or as Peter occasionally slips, Gabriel. And Sylar doesn't even kill him for it! He has played with the idea a few times in his head and even fished round in Sylar's brain, but couldn't find any of the previous negativity. Mainly just guilt.

"How long do you think till we get there?" Peter asked.

Matt looked at the map then to his watch, "In about six hours if you keep going the speed you are without getting pulled over by cops." He answered.

Peter found this highly amusing, "A cop telling me it's okay to speed?" Peter turned his smile towards his friend.

Matt smiled too and said slyly, "Ex-cop." He corrected.

They both laughed as they sped toward the rising sun.

**

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I wasssss going to write more but I'm so tireedddd D:

**+ I'm losing some of my steam! :O make sure you review with comments to let me know whatever you wanttt :D **

**Anyways, I'm going to go watch beauty and the beast :) much love. Sage.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Soo…don't hate me but updates are going to be inconsistent now :) I just haven't the time to write like I did when I started this story :( life is very busy for a senior ya know..**

**So basically what's going to happen is I'm going to update, like, whenever I want, ya know? Like whenever I finish a chapter after a while of inconsistent writing. :) I reallllllllllllllllllllllly appreciate the reviews you guys have no idea :P much love, Sage.**

* * *

"Is this the right place?" Peter asked looking out through every window while he drove into the sunny neighbourhood.

"Probably," Matt answered him and looked down, "There's no town here on the map so this must be it."

"And now what? We just drive around blindly till we run into somebody?" He asked disbelievingly.

Driving for another half day had obviously frayed poor Peter's nerves, "Unless you have a better plan…?" Matt challenged.

Peter rolled his eyes and sighed, "No." He said regrettably.

Another hour rolled by after it had become dark and Peter sighed and groaned after every turn. This town obviously wouldn't be _that _big considering it wasn't even real. But he was pretty certain he'd passed that same trash can atleast twice before!

"We're getting nowhere!" It wasn't Peter surprisingly, but Matt.

Peter looked over to his buddy with wide eyes and kept silent.

"Well it's true!" Matt yelled, "And we've passed that trash can like seven times now!"

He knew it! "Well, think of a better plan then, because I don't have one."

"So I have to be the one to make up a plan? I've been the one making up the plans so far, _you _do it." Matt folded his arms against his chest like a juvenile.

Peter looked offended, "I've been the one making the plans so far! So it's your turn!"

Matt looked angry and frustrated and was just about to respond with the same emotions when his attention was diverted to a brief flash of headlights among the darkness. They both looked up at the headlights coming towards them and their brains started working.

"Cut it! Cut it!" Matt whispered in panic and Peter fumbled to turn the key, taking way too long for Matt's comfort.

The car creeped towards theirs that was now parked on the curb behind a red hatchback.

"Down!" Matt whispered and they both scrunched themselves in half with much discomfort and waited for the car to pass.

Voices filtered through the open windows of Matt's sedan. Familiar voices, one voice in particular Peter has heard way too much.

"Is that…?" Peter asked almost disbelievingly.

"Yeah, I think so." Matt said and sat back up and instantly recognised the company issued car.

Without thinking, Matt pushed the door open and jogged after the car, "Hey!" He yelled.

* * *

Noah slammed the on the brakes, not creating a loud screech due to the snail-like pace Angela had insisted they adopt. He immediately looked in the direction of the voice and saw a familiar jolly figure jogging after the car.

"Parkman!" Angela exclaimed in surprise and relief. She opened her door and hopped out, somehow still looking as composed as she had every dinner they had shared together.

Matt smiled and was going to say something to Angela when she didn't even look at him and swiftly brushed past him. Matt raised his eyebrows at the predictable action.

Matt walked around to the other side of the car just as Noah stepped out, "So glad to see you guys." Matt laughed breathlessly, from the jogging or his relief he didn't know.

"You too, Matt." He looked over the top of the car and saw Angela still hugging a complaining Peter, "Peter too."

"So, what's the plan now?" Asked Matt, curious to know just what the hell they were going to do now.

"Well, I could try calling Claire again, but the reception here is horrible, or we could search every house and building in this neighbourhood but that would take days – _weeks. _I could call in all my teams from the company, but business has to run smoothly and as normal if we don't want suspicion being raised in the Company's headquarters." Noah paused for breath, "So that just leaves…" He couldn't finish. He didn't know what to say.

"Leaves time for planning…" Matt offered weakly.

"Well with you geniuses working on a plan, it should take no time at all." Angela spoke sarcastically which Matt and Noah both rolled their eyes at while Peter warned with a "Mom."

She shrugged and brushed the fur collar of her coat, "I'm just saying, we should've gotten this all planned before we even left Dodge." She puckered her lips in her very Angela way.

"And that would've wasted time, so we're just going to have to put our heads together-" But Peter didn't finish. The interruption being so huge, his voice leaving him with no words trailing after.

All four of them looked into the sky, witnessing the ascension of a massive concrete structure, exploding from the centre of the house with the red hatchback parked out the front.

* * *

"Mack." Andrew's voice was nonexistent as he stared at the short man in front of him.

"Mack." Sylar addressed him much more harshly, complete opposite of Andrew's greeting.

Mack's arms rose from his sides, "In the flesh." He laughed.

Sylar's brows furrowed for half a second, thinking.

"What do you want from us?" Claire asked, shifting her weight nervously from one leg to the other hoping no one would notice.

"It's not something I want from each of you; I only want something from you Claire." He smiled in a way that was probably supposed to be both menacing and seductive reminding her of Sylar's, but only producing a disgusting cousin of Sylar's signature smirk.

"Give it up, Mack. She doesn't want you." Sylar spoke strongly, not afraid.

"I'm not talking to you!" He exploded angrily, "And she will! Over time…she'll learn to love me." He smiled hopefully.

Sylar could've laughed if it weren't for the gag that escaped his throat, "You're just a sore loser." He jabbed, a slight mocking smile on his perfect face.

Mack's face went red, "I'm not the loser here!" he pointed angrily towards Sylar, "_You are_! I can give her everything!"

"In exchange for what?" Sylar's voice rose to a volume even louder than Mack's which surprised everyone.

Mack faltered for a moment.

In this time, Sylar took another opportunity to exploit Mack again, "Do you think I would ever let you do _any _of the things to her that run through your mind?"

Mack swallowed, "You don't have a choice. You don't own her."

"And neither do you." Sylar said much more normally, thinking he's gotten his point across.

"She's my woman!"

"Stop talking like I'm not here!" Claire shouted, her hands making a cutting motion through the air, "I don't choose you, Mack. I'm sorry." She said softly.

"That is unacceptable." He shook his head slowly and glared at Sylar, "This is your fault. If you were still the killer I know you are inside, she would choose me."

Sylar gave him an 'are you kidding me?' look, "No one with half a brain cell would choose you for a foosball team let alone to spend forever with!"

Andrew let out the tiniest of tiny laughs and all heads snapped towards him, and he immediately shut up.

"You think this is funny do you?" Mack asked dangerously.

Andrew's eyes went wide and he shook his head vigorously, "No! Not at all!"

"I think you do, Andy." His eyes travelled up and down, "I gave you everything. A family, a home…and then you stab me in the back first chance you get."

"I'm sorry. But I just couldn't have all those good people's blood on my hands."

Mack barked a laugh, "Good people?" He pointed towards Sylar, "This guy has killed countless good people, more than me! And you're taking _his _side?" He laughed again, more loudly this time.

No one said anything, Andrew because of fear, Sylar because he knew he deserved every accusation he got from anyone, and Claire because she was just waiting for the moment Mack disappeared and left them all here to live for eternity.

Mack walked towards the trio and stood in front of Claire, "C'mon, Claire. Time to go." He hastily grabbed her hand which she reflexively wrenched away, not getting out of his grip.

Sylar's hand grasped Mack's forearm and tightly as he could and pushed against him which Mack matched and pushed also.

"Let me go! I'm not going anywhere with you!" Claire screamed into the air and tried with all her might to get away from him.

"Never! Do as you're told!" He yelled in return.

Sylar withdrew from the struggle and drew his fist back and put all of his bodyweight behind the punch that landed square in Mack's jaw. The impact threw Mack back, clutching the side of his face with a stream of blood dripping around his fingers. He cursed into the air and Claire jumped to Sylar's side and held onto is jacket for dear life.

"I knew it." Sylar whispered to himself, "It's him." The _real _him!

_Mack's arms rose from his sides, "In the flesh." He laughed. _

Mack saw the realisation in Sylar's eyes and widened his own. Still clutching his jaw, he forced the ground Sylar was standing on to open up into a huge pit. Not being fooled though, Sylar used his telekinesis to push his and Claire's bodies away from the earth and avoid the gaping hole in the ground. When Sylar's feet hit the ground, Mack forced a long, ragged rock to fly from the ground and smash Sylar in the face, not giving him the opportunity to fight back.

The large piece of granite collided with Sylar's face with a sick crack and crunch probably breaking his neck, sending him flying backwards, away from Claire.

"Sylar!" Claire yelled after him, taking the first step towards him. But that's how far she got before Mack grabbed her arm and wrenched her over to his side.

When she was safe, steadying herself from being thrown from her place, Mack took this opportunity to hold his arms in front of him the same way a husband would hold his wife as they entered the honeymoon suite. The ground shook and they all attempted to steady themselves. Mack held his arms like before and slowly raised them towards the sky, the same time the earth in front of them began to split and a giant wall began to rise.

Claire's teary eyes made contact with Sylar's when they realised they were nowhere near each other and Mack had control. Claire's terrified face was the last thing he saw before his view was consumed by Mack's concrete wall.

The ground took it's time to become steady and the wall to stop moving. Sylar dashed to the wall and slammed his palms to it, "_NO!_" He yelled furiously, too many times to count as he hit and smacked and punched the wall till his healing ability had a hard time keeping up with him.

Sylar's exhausted body couldn't take anymore and he leaned his back heavily on the wretched wall. This moment brought him back to the other wall that nearly ruined his life, the brick wall in the alternate universe he shared with Peter. So much pain, so much heartache. So familiar to him in this moment it hurt to breathe. The situations were so similar, no escape, no company…no hope. He would die before he let himself be trapped in that situation again. Death was the better option.

Sylar raised his eyes to Andrew's form, frozen with fear, staring at the wall, "Why didn't you help?" He asked darkly.

Andrew couldn't pull himself together; he still hadn't moved and was breathing heavier that a bull pulling two tonnes of cargo.

Sylar furrowed his brows in anger and jumped up from the ground and stalked angrily up to Andrew, grasping the front of the man's shirt in his fists, "Why. Didn't. You. _Help?_" He yelled.

Andrew snapped out of it at once, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" His hands flying to the sides of his head in surrender.

Sylar was still angry, and Andrew only made it worse. He drove his right fist into the drywall beside Andrew's head, never flinching as it created a fist-sized hole in the wall and his knuckles to ache. Andrew immediately recoiled away from Sylar's fist. But just as quickly as he had attacked the wall, he was gone, blowing a hole through the front wall of the house with the invisible force behind his hand and stomping into the night air.

Sylar stopped his footsteps as soon as he caught sight of the people gazing confusedly at the wall that extended far into the sky.

* * *

"Let me go!" Claire yelled, squealed, kicked, screamed, everything she could think of to get Mack away from her. He was still dragging her by the hand at a very fast pace, trying to put as much distance between them and Sylar as possible.

"Quit that!" He yelled back at her, not bothering to turn around.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked angrily. She was so angry and so scared she was on the verge of tears. There was no way she could defend herself from Mack, her power was strictly defensive. That's why she needed Sylar with her, he balanced her out. He would make her feel better, not only with his presence but his words that charmed her even when she was at her worst.

Mack turned abruptly and raised his hand as if to backhand her across the face, but hesitated and decided against it and instead just gave her a furious look. Claire obviously flinched and squeezed her eyes shut when he raised his hand but regained her composure and struggling when he didn't hit her.

"I don't want any more trouble from you." He told her quietly, but it sounded like a furious shout in her mind. Dishevelled and hobo-looking as he was, she knew he was dangerous. The fact nagged at her mind's fear and constantly reminded her of the potential he wields.

Claire walked an arm's length away from him after that, with him dragging her the whole way. The whole way to an imaginary place with no limitations.

* * *

"Sylar!" Peter rejoiced, running up to the man closer to a brother than a friend and threw his arms around him briefly.

But Sylar's mind was too busy, he grabbed Peter's upper arms and looked him in the eyes, "Did you see them come out here? Where are they?" He asked frantically, shaking Peter slightly.

Before Peter had the chance to ask the very confused question floating in his mind, Noah stormed up to the pair, well Sylar, and grabbed him roughly.

"Where is she? You were supposed to be protecting her!" He shouted in Sylar's face, too angry to even say hello or ask for what happened or anything.

Sylar shoved him off roughly, "I'm not your babysitter, Bennet! You knew this mission was too high for a rookie team!"

"_You _are not a rookie! You have worked on several cases before!"

"None that were this demanding! It's _your _fault Mack took her!" Sylar's voice cracked only slightly and could've been attributed to the constant shouting, but there was no way he was going to allow Noah to walk all over him especially when he tried everything he could to save the man's daughter.

Noah staggered backwards slightly, "He has her?" He asked breathlessly. The memories of Mack all those years ago flooded his mind. The image of the blood soaked floor numerous body parts laid resting on, thrown unceremoniously into the air and left where they landed. Mack's furious face when they tried to detain him, his horrible temper. His numerous pages in his file solely dedicated to the abuse of women. Suddenly his temper flared just as high as Sylar's.

"Which way did they go?" Noah shouted, louder than he had before.

"I didn't see." Sylar spoke quieter, ashamed of himself for letting another man put his hands on Claire.

Noah grabbed two fistfuls of the front of Sylar's jacket, Sylar reacted and tried to shove him off, but the energy was just too high, the anxiety was too much. They began struggling against one another, neither one daring to make the first punch, just pushing and shoving for a few measly intense seconds.

Matt rushed forward, one hand grabbing Noah's shirt and the other Sylar's jumper just below their necks, "This isn't helping anyone!" He yelled.

The two men released each other with a final push and stared intensely into each other's eyes, just wishing there wasn't a crowd to witness them sorting out their differences once and for all. Sylar wanting to punch the older man so bad it hurt. Noah wanting to teach that punk with his right hook so much he was trembling.

"Is there any other way we can try and find Claire?" Matt asked Sylar, still not trusting the pair enough to release his hold.

Sylar's eyes remained on Noah's for a split second before his mind became less fuzzy, "Andrew!" He pushed Matt's hand away and darted back to the house.

The group exchanged glances before Peter instructed everyone to stay put while he ran after Sylar.

"Sylar!" Peter yelled when he saw his friend climb through an elephant sized hole in the side of a house.

Peter tripped his way through hastily, and just in time to see Sylar grab a pathetic looking man from the floor.

Sylar gripped the cloth on Andrew's shoulder and yanked him up with no effort from his seated position against the wall. Andrew resisted only slightly, not trusting Sylar's obvious temper and his abilities.

"Tell me where Mack's house is!" Sylar yelled in the poor man's face when they rejoined the others.

Andrew came alive, "No! He'll hurt my kids!" He refused and grabbed Sylar's sleeve.

Sylar looked to Matt. Stupid Andrew didn't have to be cooperative. All he needed was a brain.

Matt nodded to Sylar and looked into Andrew's eyes. The man being held by Sylar stared back confusedly, not knowing what this guy was doing. Matt continued to stare – there was a lot of stuff going through Andrew's head at the moment, nothing pleasant, but he finally saw an image of a grand mansion pop into the man's mind.

"Where is the house?" Matt asked, very deliberately, and tilted his head, and a harder expression.

Andrew looked to the faces of the group, looking to each for answers, but all he got in reply was the sound of this Matt guy sighing.

"I got it. The house is in the very centre of this neighbourhood, less than ten minutes away if we speed." He said, glad that he got helpful information.

"Good, let's go." Both Sylar and Noah said at the same time, they shared evil looks and Sylar beat the old man to the driver's seat after lunging for it.

**

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This story is officially on hiatus! :O


	22. Chapter 22

**Noooo, I'm not dead. :)**

* * *

The first thing that came to Sylar's mind was a memory. When the group screeched to a stop in front of the mansion Andrew's mind led them to, Sylar automatically thought of the things that went on inside those rooms. The blowing holes through the walls to gain access into an identical room, waking up to find Claire's head resting upon his shoulder…the fear he felt when he realised it wasn't Claire that slept next to him that one moment. It didn't go over so well with Sylar's emotions. His fear, his anger, his frustration. All at himself for letting that chump get away from him with Claire like that. He promised himself and at a distance, promised Claire that it would never happen again.

The drive to the place was filled with concerned and angry yells from everyone in the car, Angela even slapping him on the arm for going around a corner too sharply. Bennet and Peter didn't seem to have a problem with his driving, just wimpy, cop-minded Parkman and fragile Angela. Andrew didn't go with them. He didn't deserve it. No one even asked about him and his next place to go. They all just left him there in the middle of the road for Mack to discover him, if Mack ever made it out alive. Which Sylar was going to make sure didn't happen.

Sylar looked around himself to the hesitant group. They all shut their doors as quietly as they possibly could and stood looking around each other as if looking for directions from the people who were also looking for directions.

"Don't worry. I've been here before." Sylar said trying to lighten the mood yet not draw the importance of the situation away and also, in a way, try to comfort the group.

"So how do we get in?" Matt asked, looking this way and that.

Sylar furrowed his brows, "Through the front door…" He said quite condescendingly.

Matt paused, "Thanks, Sherlock. Now if you would just lead us to the door…" Matt looked at Sylar expectantly with his hands on his hips.

Sylar didn't need to turn around to face a common brick wall without an obvious entrance to know Mack had removed the door completely. Just like the doorknobs in the beginning when it was just him and Claire.

Sylar didn't bother turning back around and set his stride toward the house. It had everything but a door. But Sylar was talented enough to fix that. Just like he had done with Claire, he raised his arm in front of him and an invisible pulse blew the brick a mile away. It was like a repeat situation. It all just reminded him of Claire and how much he wanted to look behind him and wish he saw her admiring face instead of looking back and seeing surprised and agreeable expressions on people that were not Claire.

Which only made him more determined.

Sylar strode into that building like the terminator.

* * *

"Do you even know how much I hate you?" Claire said through gritted teeth and tried to yank her hand free just one more time for good measure.

Mack responded with a harsher grip, "No you don't." He said through gritted teeth as well.

"I was the nice one. I tried to be nice to you even when I knew you were a huge freak that killed innocent people and played a sick game with me and Sylar."

Mack pursed his lips, "You'll learn to live with me. You'll learn to love me." He said with a tight throat, "I can give you everything."

Claire had had enough. She yanked as hard as she could against Mack's grip and her hand flew free of his grasp, "_I don't want anything from you!_" She yelled so loudly her ears popped.

Mack spun around as soon as Claire's hand left his, "It doesn't matter if it's from me or from the President, you'll still want the things I can provide for you!" He yelled back at her with his face growing increasingly red.

Claire calculated how long it would take to run around the corner of the house they were in front of and out of Mack's view to increase her chances of getting the hell away from him. But, unfortunately, Mack's mind was faster than her body.

She remembered Sylar's epiphany at that moment. _"I knew it." Sylar whispered to himself, "It's him." The __real __him! _And Claire had a plan.

She would just have to do something she was too afraid to do but Sylar wouldn't think twice about. To protect herself when no one else was here to do it for her. Mack was going to have to perish at her hands.

"We're wasting time. Move." Mack commanded in his very Mack-like shovanistic way.

But Claire didn't move.

Mack's eyes became wider and his expression more serious, "_Move._" He warned and a pointed finger.

Claire chose that moment to punch the old man square in the nose. Mack's reaction being doubling over and hands flying to his nose which was still sore from when Sylar had right-hooked him not even an hour ago. Claire's knee went straight into his gut not two seconds later and Mack fell to his knees with a winded puff of air. Not as much pain as when Sylar had punched him, but more pain than he's felt in his 57 years of life. Not even some of his girlfriends had the same fight as Claire did.

Claire had no time to think of a one-liner to end her journey with Mack or make him see reason or anything like that. Claire could only think about pushing her legs faster as she ran around the corner of the house and out into the street. She had to get out of view, Mack would be on his feet soon.

'_Damnit,' _She thought, _'Should've kicked him in the balls.' _That would've atleast gotten her more than 20 seconds before Mack's voice penetrated the air.

"Claire! Come back here, you bitch!" His voice angrier than ever. She could just imagine how red his face was right at that moment.

Claire's legs didn't have enough time to stop themselves before she ran face first into a newly formed brick wall. Of course he had to make it brick.

Her nose took most of the impact with her forehead coming in a close second. She cried out in pain for a second before blood was running down her fingers as she rearranged her feature so it could heal straight.

Mack's angry, stomping and quick paced footsteps weren't heard by Claire because of the impact she just endured, but it wasn't that much of a surprise when Mack's small and chubby hand wrapped around the back of her neck and yanked her back. Claire's body contorted defensively when he grabbed her and protested.

They struggled against each other but Mack won the upper hand this time. He held the back of her neck and turned her to face him, his other hand grabbing and squishing her cheeks as she looked with fear into his eyes, his breath repugnant and foul smelling near her.

"Don't _ever _do that again." He said quietly and deadly.

Claire couldn't say anything, partly because of his hand crushing her face, partly fear-induced silence and partly because of the surprise. She was sure her plan was going to work. She was once again frustrated at her defensive power and wished she had Sylar's. If she had Sylar's power she'd have killed him long ago and back in time for dinner.

Another second of despiteful staring at one another and they were off again in the same direction they had taken since Mack had dragged her off in the first place.

Her eyes fell upon a familiar site not five minutes later and her face deadpanned, "Are you serious?" She asked.

He said nor did nothing. Just glared ahead of him like he had been doing since their punch up.

"How's your nose?" She asked with a slight smirk on her face.

"How do you think? You _and _that punk punched me in the face! It hurts like hell." He sulked with a nasally voice.

"Maybe you shouldn't have kidnapped me," She yanked her hand without succession of becoming free for a second time, "Maybe you've bitten off more than you can chew."

"No! Nothing is too much for me!"

She's heard that attitude before. But it was true to the speaker back then. Sylar was better than anyone Claire, her dad, Angela, anyone had ever met. And that hasn't changed even if Mack has escaped Sylar a couple times now. Sylar is just channelling his powers for good rather than evil now.

The first thing Mack made sure he did was remove all the doors from the outside of the house. He wasn't about to make Sylar's intrusion as easy as opening the front door. The original plan was to take Claire and jump on a plane and get as far away from his town as possible, but Mack had more pride than that. That would be like ducking his tail between his legs and running, convincing Sylar that he won and Mack's pride would be reduced to nothing. That would be admitting defeat.

Claire's feet stomped heavily on the marble floors as Mack dragged her around removing doors and being obnoxious.

"Ah," Mack sighed, "There. Finished." He smiled happily to himself and to Claire.

Mack's hand dropped Claire's and she immediately withdrew her arms to be folded across her chest.

A minute went by with Mack staring triumphantly at her.

"I'm so glad you're here now, Claire."

"Shut up." Claire answered.

He sighed. She was being so difficult, "Claire." He warned.

"Don't say my name. It sounds disgusting coming from your mouth." Claire's despising glare made him angry.

"Well that's just too bad!" He spat at her, "You're stuck with me now for the rest of your life!"

"No. Only until Sylar gets here." Claire said with the utmost trust in Sylar.

Mack moved his face closer to Claire's and breathed his extremely bad halitosis over her cheek, "Sylar's not coming for you, honey." He chuckled, which sounded closer to a gurgle.

Claire moved her head away from him a fraction. She wouldn't believe him, Sylar was coming for her. He promised.

"Yes he is." She told him with more venom than a viper.

Mack stood straight and looked down at her, "No! He's not! He's wandering around a black abyss with no hope of getting out! Do you hear me?" He yelled at her, his face going red with anger.

Claire stood, just as strong, "He will come! You're just jealous you'll never be as great as him!" Claire yelled louder than he did, her voice penetrating his eardrums.

Mack was seeing white with rage. His face contorted into an expression of pure fury. He raised his hand and struck Claire across the face with the back of his hand. Claire fell to the floor, holding her red cheek and looked into his eyes with something akin to fear.

Mack retreated his arm back to his side and just looked at her pathetic form on the floor.

Claire looked up at him with tears in her eyes, "Don't say you're sorry." She whispered harshly.

Mack raised his chin a fraction, "I'm not."

* * *

Stepping through the blasted wall was like another step on another journey. A very important journey.

"Wow." Matt sighed when he stepped in after Sylar.

He looked back at Matt with an expression and a tug at his lips, "You'll learn to hate it." He said, he knows he sure has.

A gasp was heard from behind the group and everyone turned their eyes to Angela.

"I've seen this room before." She said with hardly any volume.

Sylar's eyes widened and looked pointedly at his friends, "How?" He asked.

"I've dreamt of this room before." She said and looked to the vaulted ceilings of the grand room, "But it didn't look like this for long."

Confused looks were shared among the group. Sylar opened his mouth to inform Angela that Mack's style isn't to change rooms too often but rather make things remain the same long enough for one's mind to fall in on itself and promote insanity, when the lights went out. The room they were now in resembled a tiny closet with its only overhead light being turned off, only pitch darkness being seen in every direction.

"Great." Noah sighed, frustrated.

* * *

Claire sat on the only chair in the bedroom. An oddly coloured stained wooden chair that didn't belong in the linen and lace dominated bedroom. She wouldn't feel comfortable sitting on the bed or at the vanity; a simple chair seemed to bring her comfort. Reminding her of the chair she looked at everyday when she and Sylar were office bound, the chair that held their door open because they didn't have a door-stopper.

Her head was down and her eyes glued to her fidgeting hands. Although there was no bruise or even a mark where Mack had struck her, she knew that if she had no healing ability, it would be big and purple by now. She felt humiliated and depressed to be in a victim's situation. Again. The first time with Sylar – the time she had felt so hopeless and weak was enough to last her a lifetime. The experience with Sylar was far worse than this one, but it only lasted a few minutes and she hated him for so long after that. Somehow, the two situations didn't seem comparable anymore. _Mack and Sylar didn't seem comparable anymore._

"I don't like hitting you." Mack said from his place near the door, standing and opening it every so often to peek outside.

"Then don't." Claire said, and her voice was filled with the tears she shed earlier, her eyes growing hot with another round just dying to spill over.

Mack sighed and walked over to stand in front of her, which Claire grimaced, furrowed her brows at and looked away, "If it makes you feel any better: I'll try not to kill your boyfriend if he leaves without a fuss."

Claire rolled her eyes, "You're so generous."

Mack smirked darkly and lifted her chin a little too roughly to look him in the eyes, "But we both know he won't." He chuckled.

* * *

"_Mack!_" Sylar cupped his hands around his mouth as he yelled the name for the tenth time, moving from one side of the darkened room to the other.

"He's not listening to you, man. Give it up." Matt said from his seated position beside Peter. Although no one could see who was who, they had all decided to keep together and wait it out. Well, everyone except one.

Sylar ran his hands down his face and to his hips where he stood and thought.

A few minutes went by with the only sound heard was the erratic and angry breaths of Noah, the calm, yoga-practiced hums of Angela, the crack of Peter's knuckles every so often (which Sylar noted he did when he was extremely pissed off), the frustrated groans of Matt, and the contemplative movements of Sylar.

"That'll never work." Matt said suddenly and out of the blue, causing confused looks at him no one could see.

"We could try." Sylar said although it sounded more like a question.

"But it won't work." Matt answered a little flustered.

"You don't know that!" Sylar raised his voice an octave which made everyone flinch in the dead silence.

"You're not stealing my power, Sylar!" Matt yelled at him even louder.

"Wait, what?" Noah piped up.

"I'm not going to steal it! I'll just borrow it! I'll get rid of it as soon as we see if it works!" Sylar nearly begged.

"_No!_" Matt yelled at him again.

"What are you two talking about?" Angela's voice was shrill and piercing as she yelled into the darkness, unsure of which direction Sylar's voice was coming from and loud enough to make them stop in their tracks.

"Sylar wants to steal my power to gain control of Mack's mind to see if he can somehow, without having any history or practice with Mack's power, use it to turn the lights back on and bring Mack to us." Matt answered a bit condescendingly.

A few seconds ticked by without a word, then, "That sounds like a great plan." Peter said and the group heard him shuffle into a standing position, "That could actually work. We know Mack is here in the building, how his mind works and we're desperate enough to try it."

"Are you crazy, Peter?" Matt asked, "This is _Sylar_ that's asking to take my power to _borrow _and use."

"I know it's Sylar. That's why I'm not worried and think it's a good plan." He answered confidently.

Sylar's heart swelled and a smile plastered his face; glad his companions couldn't see the gratitude on his face.

A silence fell over the group that made Sylar apprehensive.

Finally, Peter sighed, "All I'm asking is for an attempt." He said and looked in the general direction he thought Matt was in.

Hesitantly Matt said, "Fine, but I'm doing it. I'm not willingly giving my power to Sylar."

Sylar rolled his eyes with an "oh my god" spoken under his breath.

"I'm the only one that's been with him and has seen the way he works. It would be more logical if I were to do it." Sylar said.

"I've met him too, ya know." Noah said from a distance.

"Not in like twenty years." Sylar answered dismissively.

"Three!" He complained.

"I'll try." Matt said.

"I'm doing it with you then." Peter said, which surprised the group.

"Peter, no. It could be dangerous." Angela spoke up for the first time since the argument.

"I don't care, Mom. This is Claire we're talking about. It's not about who should have the right to try and save her, it's just about Claire." He turned in the direction the voices were coming from, "And I think it's time we be adults about this, suck it up and do what's best for her." Peter ended with a more forceful tone.

The group just sat there for a moment.

"Wow, Petey. Way to take the stage." Sylar teased.

"Shut up." Peter said offhandedly which made Sylar snicker, "Are we doing this or not?"

* * *

"Don't touch me." She repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time, always reminding him to keep his distance.

"You're mine, I can do whatever I like to you." He answered, always the same answer.

"Touch me one more time." She warned with fire in her eyes, her stare penetrating his with anger.

He reached to caress her knee again, a sort of foreplay for the fun that was to come later on.

Claire didn't even think this time as she slapped him as hard as she could across the face from where she sat with him in a chair in front of her.

Mack yelled in pain and held his cheek, "You bitch." He said. He went to grab her throat, throw her around a bit just to teach her a lesson, but Claire's reflex was to block his approach, stand and push her body against his to move him away. They began struggling against one another, Claire yelling "get away from me" many times and Mack grunting and yelling at her to "respect" him.

"I hate you, Mack! I wouldn't choose to be with you even if you were the last man on the planet!" She yelled as her face went red and body ached with exertion.

"Well that's just too bad because he's not coming for you!"

"He has a heart unlike you! He cares about me!" Tears formed in her eyes and she choked on her sobs.

"Sure I care about you, Claire." He stopped struggling against her and looked her in the eyes, "Just maybe not in the same way." And he threw her on the bed.

* * *

Peter gripped Matt's bare arm long enough for his power to generate into his body. He felt the familiar warmth surging through his body with his blood, new knowledge forming in his mind about the technicalities and instructions of this new power. Answers flooding into his mind like an overfilled dam.

The invigorating sense didn't last long, but Peter found new strength within the casing of his mind as he held the same power Matt had.

Although they couldn't see each other, Peter and Matt knew exactly where each other were, listening to their minds communicate unconsciously. Peter wouldn't mind having this power all the time, it becoming a part of him just as easily as any of the other powers he'd acquired for a limited time.

In their minds they could see each other. They somehow gave each other strength to block out the other presences in the room and concentrate on what needed to be done. Matt's mind leaped over the hurdle of recognising another with the same power with athletic mental ease.

"First we have to find where he is and how close he is." Matt said as if instructing a student.

Peter's eyes widened as his mind opened. His mind becoming so open to interpretation and being so impressionable, it was hard to concentrate on just one thing. Matt's presence helped with this a great deal, making his headache more of a numb feeling. Zoning in on the obvious state of mind Mack possessed was easily done with assistance.

"Got him." Matt whispered.

Sylar came to life, inside and out, "Good! Take over his mind, he won't be expecting it!" He yelled almost excitedly.

The group heard both Peter and Matt gasp in unison.

"What? What's the matter?" Angela asked from her place beside Noah, asking the question on everyone's mind.

"Hurry, Matt." Was the response they got from Peter.

"I'm trying, I'm trying." Matt's face scrunched with concentration, but something was blocking his mind from full access, "Peter, I think only one can access his mind."

Peter backed off immediately, they had no time to argue who should be the one to take over. Matt was the logical choice anyway, he was more experienced.

"I got him." Matt whispered.

Peter saw him close his eyes through the sight of his mind. Peter tried hard to keep the connection between himself and Matt going, but was difficult due to Matt already being occupied with someone else.

"Peter, what's happening?" Angela asked again.

Peter backed off completely from Matt, giving him total concentration. He sighed, "Mack is…uh…he's, um…" What were the words? He needed words that would ease the fact. Words that wouldn't make Sylar go into such a rage he would be lost in this dark abyss forever. But the words didn't hide the meaning, so there was really no point.

"What?" Noah snapped, anxious and impatient.

"He's, uh, trying to…force Claire…" His sentence didn't end in the typical lowering tone but held consistency throughout, not knowing if the sentence needed finishing or if it could just continue to torture their minds.

Turns out, the sentence didn't need finishing at all, they all caught on pretty well, "_WHAT?_" Sylar yelled, his voice being the first echo they heard in this place.

"Don't worry! Matt's got him now! He's trying to fix it…" Peter justified, not looking forward to the second when Noah's mind catches up and processes.

"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch!" There we go, Noah caught up. Angry pacing was heard from then on, angry pacing and words Peter didn't know existed.

"Why didn't I dream this?" Angela spoke to herself, guilt-tripping herself for not seeing this coming.

"Turn them on! _Now!_" Everyone heard Matt yell from his little segregated area a few feet from the rest of them.

The lights didn't flicker as they came to life. The group found themselves in…nothing. Just an expanse nothingness of four white walls in a room the size of a school's gymnasium.

"Give us a door." Matt commanded more quietly and forcefully.

An entire wall flickered as an ordinary door wavered into place on the closest wall behind Sylar. No one thought twice before running to it. Sylar, being younger and fitter, made it first and wrenched the door open and ran into the adjoining room. Although, it wasn't really a room, it was a hallway. A hallway that seemed to never end with countless doors being seen leading off it. He growled in frustration.

* * *

Claire squealed and kicked and punched and scratched and clawed. But he wouldn't stop, he wouldn't get off her. She remembered the time this had happened to her before…with a much more slimmer and weaker body forcing her into this position, it made her lungs hurt with the screams she was emitting from her small body. Her body's natural defence now that this was the second time she's been in this situation.

Mack was laughing. Laughing in a disturbing and cynical way that made her gut twist. He was enjoying every moment of this. He knew he was the more powerful of the two and he was bathing in her torture.

His hand had just managed to grasp her wrists with his small and chubby fingers above her head when his other hand moved to his belt. Claire's cries became more desperate. She had escaped the first time but considered the idea that she wouldn't be as lucky this time.

Just as she was about to kick him where it hurts the most, Mack's face contorted into an uncomfortable expression. She furrowed her brows at the halt of his actions, thanking the invisible interruption with her entire being.

Mack jumped off her and grasped the sides of his head like he were trying to keep his brain from liquefying and pouring out from his ears.

'_Sylar.' _She thought immediately and almost jumped for joy. She knew he would do something, he wasn't the type to give up on anything. Not on a stupid crossword puzzle, not before finishing a book, not before making sure he's succeeded in getting Claire in a bad mood every morning, nothing. She swears she was going to kiss that asshole when she saw him next she was so elated.

"No!" Mack yelled and fell to his knees. He didn't know what was happening; his mind felt like it wasn't his own, felt thoughts come to his mind that weren't his. He consciously made the decision to illuminate the holding he was keeping his prisoners in, yet unconsciously. It was as if someone was using his mind as a tunnel to gain access to another part of something, a pathway to his ability? The same thing happened not three seconds later when he made a door appear that lead to the hallway of his mansion.

Claire didn't waste any time in jumping off the bed and running to the door. She roughly yanked and twisted and pulled at the doorknob, but it was locked and her strength was no match for opening a salsa tin let alone a locked doorknob. She looked back at Mack and noticed his crumpled state and fearful eyes. The first hint of fear she's seen since the day they met and Sylar had told him who he was.

"Claire!" She heard faintly. So faintly it was as if someone and whispered her name through a cement wall. But she heard it nonetheless.

She came to life and banged on the door as hard as she could, "I'm in here!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, her throat still being sore from all the screaming and yelling she was doing while being assaulted by Mack. She yelled again, and again, and again.

The footsteps she heard were like the flapping of angel wings. She smiled and tears came to her eyes as she stepped back and allowed barging shoulders to pound on the door.

"I'm in here!" She yelled one more time with happiness as Sylar burst through the door with Peter, Matt, her dad and Angela in tow.

"Oh, thank god." She heard Sylar say to himself as he made eye contact with her and speed walked to her.

She cried with joy as he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her slightly, she wrapping her arms so tightly around his neck she was sure he wasn't breathing.

Peter, Matt and Noah immediately zoned in on Mack and restrained him like cops.

"I've still got him." Matt assured them as Bennet put a gun to Mack's head.

Angela went and stroked Claire's hair and Sylar's shoulder with motherly affection, thanking her lucky stars that her only granddaughter hadn't perished at the hands of another psychopath. The ironic element being the psychopath that caused her weeks of nightmares now embracing her as he saved her life.

Angela turned and saw Bennet pull out a gun a point it to Mack's temple, "Wait!" She yelled, and all eyes fell on her. Sylar even dropping Claire's feet to the ground while still maintaining his grip to look confusedly at her.

"Why?" Noah asked, his finger half way on the trigger.

Angela was about to say he had a chance, she could work with him to show him reason and perhaps he could be rehabilitated and he would work for Bennet Security. But decided against it, nothing good would come of another one of those situations.

"Wait till we leave the room." She said quietly and ushered Sylar and Claire to the exit.

The three men stayed behind to do what Sylar wanted to do since day one. Part of him felt he had a right to pull the trigger and send the devil back to hell, but the other part of him wanted someone else to do it, to be the one to murder a murderer.

"Wait! No! Claire! He doesn't love you like I do! I can give you everything! Stay with me! I order you to stop!" Was what they heard as Sylar gently shut the door behind the three as they exited. It was also the last thing they heard from Macky Lorenzo Wiberlley.

* * *

**Still on hiatus! :D Just don't want to give up ya know. :)**


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